Only Time
by Dulcineah
Summary: Sequel to Out of Bounds. Co-written by Danielle and Dulcey circa 2001. Frasier and Lilith continue to navigate the ups and downs of their relationship. Complete
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes:

Dulcey

This began as a small story in an email, and grew from there. It inspired this story, written in countless emails back and forth containing story sections, and comments to each other, usually along the lines of "You can't end there! You suck!" A hundred and thirty pages later, after three months or so, we finally finished. This is in chapters because it's so long-the rest will be up soon. Enjoy.

Danielle's notes:

Well, welcome to our world. I'm very proud of this story and the time spent writing it. It involves wonderful memories, and much laughter as well. Here's to trolls and plus signs. And a special '32' to my wonderful writing partner. ;)

I would like to dedicate this story to the memory of David Angell, one of the people who helped create the two marvelous characters of Frasier and Lilith.

Only Time

By Danielle and Dulcey

I suppose it is generally appropriate to socialize accordingly at one's own dinner party. This, however, is less appealing when the aforementioned dinner party was organized for no purpose other than to take your mind off another, much more distracting concept.

Lilith. And me. In Chicago. Together.

It happened nearly two months ago. And yet... every morning when I wake up, I still reach across my pillow expecting to feel her soft shoulder beside me, and every night when I go to bed, if it so happens that I'm not still on the phone with her, I whisper, "Good-night, my love," just before I drift off... hoping that someday she will hear me.

I scanned the room from my safe corner by the piano, holding my drink and pretending to sip it, and glanced at my watch. Eight thirty-three. I'd probably have to suffer through one more hour, and then I'd be free. Though I would hate to wake her. She'd been sleeping terribly the past few nights, and she wouldn't say why. The more I pursued the issue, she quieter she kept.

Suddenly I heard a distant ringing over the buzz of mingling voices. I thought at first it might be my brain cells frying from boredom, but soon discovered it was the phone on the table in the middle of the room. Voices slowly grew hushed, and by the time I reached the phone, holding it up to my ear, the room was silent.

"Hello?" I stated politely.

"Frasier." She was in an evident downpour of tears.

I panicked, thinking only the worst, all at once. Had something happened to Frederick? Had something happened to *her*? Was she sick? Was she pregnant?

"I'm here, honey. Give me one second," I whispered. "If you'll excuse me for a moment," I asked of the guests, attempting to sound as composed as possible, and quickly stole away to my room, locking the door behind me. "Okay," I told her.

More sniffling.

"Lilith-"

"I had a dream," she blurted.

Slowly adjusting to the light, or lack of it, I loosened my tie, moved towards my bed, and lay down. "Tell me," I whispered.

"I can't!" she sobbed.

"Okay," I replied quickly, hoping she didn't detect the anxiety in my voice. "Okay," I repeated softly. "Then just talk to me."

I heard the ruffling of pillows on the other line, and longed to be in that bed hundreds of miles away, with her. "I'm sorry, I know you have guests."

I smiled and shook my head. "I've been hoping all evening that you'd call. If I hear one more stuffed shirt give accolades to that disastrous production of Turandot, I'll go mad."

She chuckled softly and sniffed again. "Will you talk to me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course I will," I said softly. "You know I'll always be here for you."

I intended to comfort her with this statement, but instead it brought on a new flood of tears. I listened helplessly, unable to take her in my arms and hold her like I wanted. "Oh, honey," I whispered. "Please tell me. I can't stand knowing that you're hurting like this."

Lilith sniffed, and I could hear her bravely trying to pull herself together. "I saw her," she said softly, her voice still quivering.

"Saw who?" I asked gently.

"In my dream," she whispered.

"I don't understand," I said helplessly. "Who did you see?"

She gave a small sigh. "Do you remember when Frederick was about a year old, and I thought I was..."

"I remember," I whispered softly. There had been a few days when we thought she was pregnant, and although we hadn't planned for another child quite so soon, we were ecstatic at the thought of becoming parents again. But it had turned out that we were mistaken, and our disappointment was quickly shelved because it was too painful to think about. We had lots of time, we told ourselves. There would be other children later on. Lilith was crying softly on the other end of the line. "I saw her," she repeated. "In my dream. She had my dark hair, and your blue eyes, and you loved her so much and spoiled her rotten. But she was so sweet...oh, Frasier, we had such a beautiful daughter."

I listened helplessly as she sobbed for the child never born, and the future we planned together, but never had. In the back of my mind, I wondered what on earth had possessed me to move to Seattle, so far away from her.

"Lilith, listen to me," I instructed her. "I want you to do something for me."

She sniffled. "All right."

"I want you to go downstairs and make yourself a cup of tea. Then come back, and talk to me. I'm not going to hang up until you're asleep. All right?"

"Okay," she whispered. "Thank you, Frasier."

I smiled. "You're welcome. I love you, sugar-cookie."

I could almost see her smiling at that old term of endearment. "I love you too, Frasier."

The blankets rustled as she rose from the bed. "God, it's freezing in here," she whispered, toting the cordless phone with her as she made her way downstairs.

I tried to smile. Lilith was always getting cold faster than anyone else. I remembered how stifling it used to be in that house during the summertime. And I only loved her all the more for it. "Put on a sweater," I suggested.

There was a pause, as I imagined the corners of her mouth forming a slow, seductive smile. "How do you know I'm not already wearing one?"

I sighed good-naturedly and shook my head. "Blue satin... no, no-black. Sleeveless. Little ruffles around the top and bottom..."

"It's purple."

"That would have been my next guess."

I smiled to myself as she made her way about the kitchen. "Mint Passion," she muttered to herself.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The tea."

Oh. Right. "Don't get something with caffeine in it," I reminded her. "What does the back of the box say?"

She turned the box around in her hands and flipped a light switch. "Guaranteed to satisfy your nighttime needs."

I couldn't resist. "I once considered getting that tattooed on my... arm."

A quiet chuckle. I breathed a sigh of relief to see her allowing herself a moment of joy. She filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. "You don't need to have it in writing," she informed me. "I know it's true."

We were silent for a moment as she took a mug and sat down at the table to wait for the tea. I realized I should have kept talking, as she began to sniffle again. "Lilith," I whispered, "I'm sorry we didn't get to have more children."

"Me too," she said softly. "Why didn't we?"

I didn't know how to answer. "I suppose because we were so busy with Frederick, and our careers, and then our marriage hit the rocks and it was too late."

"You're right," she whispered. "I suppose it was all for the best."

I imagined her sitting at the kitchen table, staring into an empty coffee mug and twisting the ring on her right hand the way she always did when something upset her. "Don't ever say that," I lectured her. "I have no regrets about the time we spent together. You are a beautiful, strong, incredible woman, and I'm so lucky to have married you."

"I don't regret it either," Lilith agreed. "Only that it ended how it did."

"Or that it ended at all." There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I knew I had said something I shouldn't have. "Lilith, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said softly. "You should never be sorry for what you feel."

"I know we can't go back," I admitted. "We're not the same people we were when we were married."

"No, we can't," Lilith agreed. "But that doesn't mean we can't go forwards. Three months ago, I never would have dreamed that you would have called me to ask my advice on your love life. Or that we would be this close again."

I smiled. "You always know just what to say."

There was a shrill whistle in the background. "Sounds like my tea's ready," Lilith said softly, getting up.

As I waited for her, I rose and poked my head out the bedroom door. The party was still going strong; obviously they didn't need me. I couldn't have been more thrilled. June was still flirting with poor Amos; I felt awful for abandoning him like that. Nonetheless, I couldn't help but laugh at the scene.

"What's so amusing?" Lilith queried, before I remembered she was still on the other line.

I slowly shut the door and crawled back onto the bed. "Oh, this wildly... shall we say, outgoing, young woman from the wine club... she's all over every man out there. Now she's cornered Dr. Hart... poor man's about as timid as they come."

The soft clinking of her spoon against the cup began a steady rhythm. "Every man including you?" she asked softly.

"Oh, certainly," I replied. "I can't even walk in the door without her offering to take my overcoat, and jacket, and... anything else she can get her hands on."

"Oh." Silence. "Then why did you invite her?"

I smiled. "She's a good distraction. For the others, I mean. Whenever someone starts to bore me, I simply guide them in her general direction. Problem solved."

She sighed melodramatically. "Oh, Frasier, I know you better than that. You mean she's there for when *you* get bored."

I propped myself up indignantly on a pillow. "Well, I never-!"

"No, you always!" Her voice softened and she let out a quiet laugh. "Come on, Frasier."

I twisted a loose pillow thread around my finger. "She's not... altogether uncharming," I admitted.

"Pretty?"

"Oh, baby."

I could almost see her eyes rolling.

She stirred her tea once more and set down the spoon. "Why don't you ask her out? And stop fidgeting."

I released the thread on command. She was good. Really good.

"I... I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Oh, I, well..." And now to think up a plausible excuse... "My timing would be all off. I wouldn't know how to say it."

She shifted positions in her seat, and I had a sudden flashback of how the tiny strap of her nightgown used to slip off her shoulder whenever she leaned over the table. One of the smallest memories I missed most.

"You just need to find a nice segue," she instructed. "For instance, when she's helping you to a charge of public indecency, you could mention how much more appropriate it would be if you'd spent at least ten minutes of the evening together first."

I couldn't help but smile. Her sarcasm managed to mask nearly every bit of sincerity. "Thank you, Lilith, but no."

"You can't mope over Lana forever."

"I'm not moping." I wasn't moping. "I'm just disappointed. And angry. At myself. At... what I can't control," I finished quietly.

She didn't speak for a moment, evidently wondering if she was supposed to know what that meant. "What can't you control?" she whispered at length.

I took in a deep breath, but held it there. I couldn't say this. Not to her.

"Frasier-"

"I can't control the fact that whenever I'm with a woman, all I can think of is that I wish it were you!"

The other end of the line was silent.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized. "I wasn't thinking." Yet more silence from her end of the line. "Lilith, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here," she said softly. "I'm just thinking."

"About what?" I questioned.

"Frasier, I don't think we should go down this road right now," she said quietly. "Remember what happened in Chicago."

"Right," I sighed. "Although it's ironic, when you think about it. Here we are, talking until all hours of the night, we know each other better than anyone else, and yet we can't even sort out what went wrong in our relationship."

Lilith chuckled softly. "That's typical of all psychiatrists. We can solve everyone's problems except for our own."

I smiled. "You can say that again. How many hours did we spend helping Sam with his many girlfriends? Or Woody and Kelly? Or anyone at Cheers, for that matter?"

"Hundreds, I'm sure," she laughed. "Can you imagine how rich we'd be if we'd charged them?"

"We could have bought that house on the Cape that we wanted," I added. "Or that condo in Maui that was for sale."

She gave a small sigh, and I realized that once again, I had said something best left unspoken.

We sat in silence for a moment, not knowing what to say to each other, but unwilling to end the conversation.

"I was too afraid," I suddenly blurted out.

"Afraid of what?" Lilith sounded confused.

"In our relationship. I was afraid of getting too close to you, so I held back. I never let you know how much I really loved you."

"Oh, Frasier," she whispered. "I knew you loved me."

I didn't say anything. Something made me believe her; I knew she wouldn't lie about something like that. "I did," I affirmed softly. "So much." Suddenly I began to wonder, why all of a sudden the past tense? "I... I do now," I corrected myself. "I want you to know that. Always. Nothing will ever change that."

Soft sniffling came from the other end of the line.

"Lilith?"

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "It's just one of those moments where..."

I blinked away a tear. "You wish you could just..."

"Reach out and touch you," she finished. "Frasier, I'm so afraid I'm never going to see you again."

"Oh, honey, that's-"

"But I'm more afraid of what will happen whenever we do see each other again," she whispered.

To be entirely honest, so was I.

"When the time is right..." I whispered, "I want to see you again. I..." I lowered my voice, as though the entire world were listening. "I need to see you again."

She stopped on her way up the stairs and, from what I could tell, slouched down against the wall. "You do?" she breathed.

I nodded, then realized I was on the phone. Nice work. "Yes."

Silence. I almost wondered if I should start to regret what I'd just said... "When the time is right," she repeated.

Yes. When the time was right. Would the time ever be right? There was so much I wanted to say to her, but the only words rolling around on my tongue were... is it now? Is it now? Is it now?

"Is it-" she began, stopping herself.

My heart skipped a beat, and there was silence.

"Frasier..." Her voice quavered, barely audible. "When we were in Chicago, after you fell asleep that night... I wrote you a letter, saying some things I could never have the courage to tell you... and explaining why I wouldn't be there when you woke up."

My forehead crinkled in bewilderment. "But you-"

"Yes, I was still there when you woke up. I threw out the letter. I couldn't go through with it."

I felt my face turn ashen.

She choked back her tears long enough to take one breath. "Frasier, it was a suicide note."

"Oh my God." I drew a ragged breath. "Oh, God, Lilith."

"I'm sorry," she whispered tearfully. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh, God." At this point, my legs gave way and I slid to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest with one arm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how," she said softly. "It's rather complicated."

Something wet splattered onto my hand, and I realized I was crying as well. I wanted to hold her, and never let her go, but the most I could do was clutch the phone until my knuckles turned white. "What would I do without you?" I whispered.

She sniffed. "Now I've made you cry as well."

"Oh, Lilith, why?" I asked, trying not to sound as upset as I felt. "Why?"

"I'm not even sure," she whispered. "All I could think was that there wasn't any reason for me to go on."

"What about Frederick?" I asked. "He needs his mother, especially now. He loves you so much. *I* love you so much. I'd be lost without you, Lilith."

"I know," she said quietly. "I have a wonderful son, and you're the best friend anyone could ask for. I don't know why that's not enough."

"Oh, God." I took a deep breath, trying to slow down my pounding heart. "Lilith, you're not still..."

"No," Lilith answered softly. "I couldn't do that to you and Frederick. I love you too much."

"That's good," I said with relief. "Lilith, I want you to promise me that you won't do anything to yourself without calling me first."

"Frasier, isn't that a little silly? I'm fine."

"No, it's not," I insisted. "Promise me."

"All right. I promise."

"That's my girl." I wanted to hug her, and once again, was frustrated to no end that I could not. "I'm being selfish," I joked half-heartedly. "I couldn't stand not having you in my life."

"Oh, Frasier, you're not selfish," she replied. "You've always been there for me, no matter what. You're missing out on your own party to talk to me tonight."

"Lilith, it wasn't even a choice. There's nothing I'd rather do than talk to you."

"Really?" She was being completely sincere, and it broke my heart.

"Oh, Lilith," I whispered. "I wish I could make you see how wonderful you truly are."

While it hadn't been my intention, this comment only spawned more tears on her part. While I was searching for words to remedy this, she grew quiet long enough to say, "I'm sorry."

"No apologies," I insisted softly. "We should make an agreement to stop saying 'I'm sorry' as often as we do." I reached up to the bed and pulled a pillow down to the floor where I was bunched up. "I know this is all still... unfamiliar... but we have to remember who we're talking to. We were married for five years... I think we know each other better than we'd even like to admit."

She sniffed and stirred her tea. "You're right," she answered quietly. "I suppose," she continued, lowering her voice, "I just wish that the one person who knows me that well could at least be on the same side of the country with me... that's all."

I closed my eyes. I, too, wanted nothing more than to be close to her. Not just for one night in Chicago, but always. I opened my eyes and looked around the dark, empty room. I longed for her to be curled up on the bed. I missed opening the closet door and seeing her clothes next to mine. I missed spending occasional Saturday mornings in bed, alternately napping, talking, and... finding other ways to pass the time. I didn't want to go to bed anymore wondering if I would be able to sleep that night.

"Frasier?" she whispered, reacting to my silence.

"I'm sorry, I... I was just... thinking."

She sighed softly. "I know. It's been on my mind all day."

Had I missed something? "What?"

"To be honest, I didn't even think you'd remember," she went on quickly. "I mean, we haven't actually *celebrated* our anniversary in nearly ten years. I guess it doesn't even count as an anniversary anymore..." she finished in a whisper.

Anniversary...

Oh, dear God.

Today... the fourteenth... of course. How could I have forgotten? "Oh, Lilith..."

There was a substantial silence, until it was broken at length by her half-hearted attempt at a chuckle. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Of course I didn't!" I exclaimed in an attempt to convince myself as well. "You just caught me off guard, that's all."

"Frasier." Only one word, but the meaning was crystal clear.

"All right," I confessed. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

Her voice trembled a bit. "Well, it's not like we're married anymore. You're allowed to forget these things."

"Oh, Lilith," I whispered. "Anniversary or not, I've still been thinking about you all day. Who knows?" I joked. "Maybe Daphne's rubbed off on me, and now I'm psychic as well."

"Do you remember our third anniversary?" she asked. "When you surprised me with that trip to Hawaii?"

Oh, baby, did I ever. Two weeks in paradise, with clear blue waters and warm sun...not that we got out much to experience them much. I laughed softly. "How many places have we been to, and not seen anything outside of our hotel room?"

"Too many to count," she chuckled. "But I wouldn't have had it any other way."

I would have kissed her if she'd been in the room with me. As it was, all I could do was smile. "I still say that the best anniversary present you gave me was for our first. When you told me you were expecting Frederick."

There was a sniffle on the other end of the line, and I could have kicked myself. What had I brought up children for? "I'm sorry, Lilith."

"No." I could hear her trying to fight off the tears. "Don't be sorry. Frederick was a wonderful gift for both of us."

"He was," I said with a smile. "How's he doing?"

"He wants a tattoo," Lilith informed me. "On his left arm."

I almost dropped the phone. "A TATTOO?" I yelled. "He's still a little boy!"

"He's fourteen," Lilith reminded me. "He'll be driving in two years."

"You don't mean to tell me that you're going to allow our son-our baby-to-"

"No, of course not," she assured me. "It's just a phase he's going through. We've got a good son."

"We do," I agreed. "I wish I hadn't missed out on so much of his childhood."

"He really loves you, Frasier," Lilith whispered. "I know he misses you."

I choked back a tear. "I miss him too," I said softly. "He means so much to me." I pulled my pillow back over to me and began twisting the thread again. "And so does his mother," I whispered.

At this moment, a loud thumping came on my door, and without warning Dad stuck his head in, Eddie in one arm, cane in the other. "Frasier!"

I looked up. "Dad, I'm on the phone." That was me, Captain Obvious.

He shot an evil look towards the direction of the living room. "That girl... May or April or whatever the hell her name is-"

"June."

"Yeah, well, she's all over me!"

I sighed. "Why don't you just go back to your room where you were before?"

"Where do you think she is?!" he retorted.

I heard Lilith chuckling quietly over the phone, and I smiled. "Sorry, angel, just a moment," I whispered into the receiver. "Dad, just introduce her to Mr. Casely, he's been eyeing her all evening and Lord knows she won't turn down anything male that moves."

Grumbling bitterly, Dad made his way back into the hall before returning once more with a bewildered crinkle in his face. "Who are you talking to?" he asked.

"Lilith."

His jaw dropped. "AGAIN?"

I rolled my eyes. "Good-night, Dad."

He looked down the hallway both ways, leaned in towards me and whispered, "Frasier... I know some people who can help."

"Oh for God's sake, Dad!" I hurled a pillow at the door, and he quickly exited to the hall and shut it behind him, shaking his head melodramatically as he left. "You there, moon-pie?" I asked softly.

"I'm here. Your father never fails to amuse."

I sighed. I wanted so badly for her to be here with me, lying next to me on the bed, holding my hand. It was enough to make me hang up the phone and call the airlines right then and there. "I'm sorry everyone can't love you as I do," I told her. "They don't know what they're missing."

"Oh, Frasier," Lilith said softly. "You always know what to say."

I smiled. "That's my job. Someone has to take care of you."

She laughed. "Better you than my mother. Would you believe she called me today to ask if I'd starched the laundry properly?"

I chuckled. "Same old Betty, it sounds like. How is she, anyhow?"

"Crabby." Lilith answered. "And nagging."

"In other words, same as always." I grinned. "You know, I've always wanted to introduce her to Dad, to see what would happen."

Lilith giggled softly. "That would be something to see. I don't think they would last more than two minutes in the same room without killing each other." She paused for a moment. "Either that, or they would get along famously, and tell all the mortifying stories from our childhoods."

I shuddered. There were plenty of skeletons in my closet that I didn't want anyone to discover, least of all my ex-mother-in-law. I didn't even want to think about how she would laugh at the time the football team pantsed me at the homecoming dance my junior year, or when Cody Kelly stole my swimsuit after a poorly performed swan dive, shall we say, liberated it.

Lilith's voice cut into my thoughts. "You're thinking about the swimming pool incident, aren't you?"

My jaw dropped. "I never told you about that!"

She laughed. "Maybe I can read your mind."

"I never told you," I insisted.

"Yes, you did," she told me. "Years ago. Remember that party at the Taylors, when you had eleven martinis?"

"Oh, God," I groaned. "I didn't intend on ever letting anyone know about that."

"Would you believe you told the entire room?"

I slowly hit my head on the wall. "I can't believe it."

"Oh, Frasier, I'm just teasing you," she laughed. "And I've never told a soul about that."

"Well, thank you for that." I began playing with the thread again.

Lilith gave a small sigh. "It's just..." she trailed off.

"It's just what?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"Lilith."

"All right," she sighed. "I was just thinking about that party, and even though I was so embarrassed back then, I'd give anything to have you sing an aria from La Boheme and pass out on the couch again, if it meant we could be as happy as we were back then."

I let myself fall back against the bed, and let out a quiet sigh.

"Frasier, I'm-"

"I wouldn't mind passing out on the couch, if I knew you'd be there beside me when I woke up," I told her, and for a moment there was silence. "I miss that," I went on softly. "Having you take care of me."

She drew in a slow breath. "You do?"

"Every day," I whispered.

At length, she rose from her position on the stairs and quietly crept back to her room. "Frasier?"

"Oh, dammit, my pillow's unraveling," I muttered randomly. I looked down at the cushion, and sure enough, the thread had become a mile long and the pillow was now missing an entire tassel. "I'm sorry, love, what did you say?"

She chuckled softly. "I... I don't know."

"Come on."

I heard the familiar creaking of her bed as she crawled into it, and suddenly wished nothing more than to be curled up in it beside her. "I was just... thinking. But never mind. I shouldn't have been."

"Lilith..."

"Just forget I said anything."

"Please. Tell me," I insisted, although my anxiety was rising by the second.

"I was just... thinking... that..." She stopped.

"That..."

"If you ever... I mean, if we ever... I mean, next time we-that is, if we-see each other... again. Someday. I just... hope you'll let me take care of you then. Because I miss it too," she concluded, her voice dwindling to a whisper.

"Someday..." I echoed absent-mindedly. I didn't want it to be someday. I wanted it to be now. I was ready. I was ready to see her again. I wanted to start over. Forget what happened last time... I knew this was right. It would work.

But how could I tell *her* that?

...I couldn't.

I got on my hands and knees and awkwardly reached under my bed, fumbling around for the shoebox I kept down there. This box was the reason I had forbidden Daphne to clean under there, or even look, for that matter. At last, I found the familiar, beat-up box and pulled it out, reaching inside for the contents with one hand while cradling the phone to my ear with the other.

And there they were. Honeymoon photos. I had unintentionally packed them in with my things when I moved to Seattle, and never had the heart to throw them out. We looked so happy in these photos, which were absolutely ridiculous; Lilith brushing her teeth, me with a bottle of Tequila, and an absolutely priceless shot of Lilith's expression when she woke up after a nap on the beach to discover that I had buried her in sand.

"Frasier?" Lilith repeated.

I snapped back to attention. "Sorry, jelly-bean. I'm here."

"Do you think we could ever work things out?" she asked softly.

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her and tell her I'd never leave her again. But I couldn't say it. "I hope so," I whispered, hoping she could find some comfort in that.

"I saw the Sheldons a few weeks ago," she told me. They had been friends of ours back in Boston, and their daughter Katie was two months older than Frederick. "They have three more children. Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't," I answered. "I'm happy for them."

Lilith sniffled. "I am too. It's just that seeing them made me remember everything we had planned to do."

"Like have more children?" I asked softly.

She nodded. "Yes, and take Frederick to see Europe, and buy that summer home on the Cape. Everything we wanted to do when our children were older."

"And grow old together," I added quietly. "Spending long, peaceful days together, and looking forward to our grandchildren visiting."

"I wonder if we'll ever get to do that," she mused.

"I don't know."

There was a long silence. I flipped through more snapshots. Me looking like a lobster with the horrible sunburn I'd gotten on our second day there. Lilith soaking wet after I'd thrown her into the ocean. A photo someone had snapped of us singing karaoke together in a local bar.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

I now discovered the rustling of photos was more audible than I had thought. "I'm just... nothing. Looking at pictures."

"Of what?"

"Our honeymoon," I answered nonchalantly, much too engrossed in a candid shot of the two of us making out on the beach at night... some imbecile surfer had snatched up my camera while we were thus occupied and began snapping wildly. After chasing him half a mile down the beach, I retrieved my camera, and had doubles made.

She gasped. "You have those?"

"Of course I do!" She was silent, and I put down the picture. "...Lilith?"

"I looked for those after you left," she whispered. "I couldn't find them, so I'd assumed you'd thrown them away."

I choked back a tear. "I could never..."

"I want copies."

I tried to smile. "I'll get them made tomorrow."

I tried to imagine her face light up, as it tended to do at preciously random moments. "Thank you. Although... instead of mailing them, it might just be cheaper to-" She stopped herself.

"Email them?" I suggested.

She was silent for a moment, until I almost felt compelled to say more. "Um... yes."

"That's not what you were going to say, is it?"

"No." The bedcovers rustled, and took a deep breath. "Are you going to the APA conference next month?"

Oh, God help me, I certainly was... a week in Los Angeles surrounded by a bunch of stuffed shirts spewing out opinions and interpretations their latest finds in pop psychology. Eight lectures, two benefits, and a dinner at the end of the week. I was only going because I'd heard the author of a remarkable new book I'd just read was going to be speaking there. Otherwise I would have rather driven to hell in a fast car and stayed there.

"Yes," I replied sulkily. "Dr. Bradshaw is going to be there... I think you told me you were as fascinated with his book as I was-"

"I already have my ticket," she blurted.

A thousand thoughts raced through my head, and I found myself incapable of putting any of them into words. I was exhilarated. I was nervous. I was euphoric. And I was terrified. Oh, God, was I ever terrified.

"Frasier?" Lilith asked. "Are you all right?"

"Oh. Yes. All right. Fine," I stuttered.

"I meant, are you all right with this?" she whispered.

"I will be," I answered softly. "You just caught me by surprise."

"What are we going to do?" Lilith asked. "About everything."

"I don't know." I had never entertained the possibility of ending up at the same conference as Lilith. If I had, I might have had an inkling of what to do. As it was, I sat picking lint off of my carpet and flicking it across the room. My God, when was the last time Daphne vacuumed in here?

"Frasier, don't do this," Lilith admonished. "Don't freeze up on me. I..." Her voice died down to a whisper. "I can't bear it."

"Of course not," I tried to assure her, still flicking lint. "We'll just have to avoid temptation, that's all."

"That's what you said last time." She was right. We had tried to hold ourselves back during our Chicago encounter, but hadn't even made it through the night.

"It'll be different this time," I tried to convince her. "We'll be in lectures all day, the evenings will be filled with conference activities, and there will be hundreds of other shrinks around. If we don't go off by ourselves, we'll be fine."

"I suppose you're right," she admitted. "It's like they say, there's safety in numbers."

It was a perfectly logical plan, with only one flaw. I hated it. In the months since Chicago, I'd dreamed about being alone with Lilith, of smelling her perfume and running my fingers through her dark silky hair. What I hadn't dreamed about was making polite conversation with her while a dozen brainless quacks tried to convince us of the healing powers of Caribbean sand.

"You don't like it much, do you?" Lilith asked quietly.

I shook my head. "No. But if that's what we have to do, so be it."

"Are you as scared as I am?" she whispered.

"More," I replied. "But not nearly enough to keep me away."

"Me either," she agreed. "Seeing you again will be worth whatever happens."

I wanted to kiss her, but since we were over three thousand miles apart, all I could do was laugh softly. "I couldn't agree more."

Lilith sipped her tea and sighed. "I don't know if I can wait two weeks," she mused. "I've missed you nonstop since Chicago."

"Lilith," I stated, summoning all my courage, "I don't want to stay around hundreds of other people the whole time. I want to take you out somewhere... at least once. To dinner, or... wherever. Just us. Alone." I paused, wondering if I had said too much, and suddenly thinking I shouldn't have said anything at all.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she whispered shyly. She cleared her throat, attempting to snap out of the moment we found ourselves in, and went on. "So what room are you going to be in?"

"Three thirty-five," I replied.

Silence.

"You're four doors down from me," she informed me.

I gulped. "Well," I began shakily. "Won't that be... convenient." Wait a minute. "I mean, for when we-if we... when I take you out to dinner, or if we... wanted to go down together... downSTAIRS, that is, to the... uh, the lectures..." Oh, yes. Smoothly executed, Frasier.

"I know what you mean," she answered quickly, most likely for fear that I would only be getting worse with each blunder I made.

I grabbed my pillow began on a new tassel. "Things are... things are going to be different," I said quietly, not quite sure what I meant, but saying it more to convince myself than her.

"Different from what?" she asked.

That was a good question. "I... I don't know," I admitted.

She was silent for a moment. "You know what I wish?" she whispered after a spell. "I wish they could be just like they are now... because this is perfect. I don't want to be terrified of being alone with you."

"Are you?"

The spoon clinked against her glass. "No. I'm not."

My heart skipped a beat. She wasn't. She wasn't?

"I want nothing more than to be alone with you," she went on, with a fortitude I wasn't expecting. "But I know we need to... wait. Timing, and all that..."

This time, instead of skipping a beat, it sank. "Timing," I echoed softly. "Right." Of course. Stop it, Frasier.

"How did this happen?" Lilith asked quietly.

"How did what happen?"

"Everything!" she exclaimed. "We never used to be afraid. We could talk about anything and everything, but now...we're so frightened of losing the relationship we do have that we don't say half of what we're thinking."

"I know," I said softly. "I suppose that's what happens after almost ten years of living across the country from each other."

Lilith sighed. "Whatever it is, I hate it. I feel like I keep losing more and more of you, and I'm scared that soon there'll be nothing left."

"Don't say that," I whispered. "You know you'll always be important to me."

"Do you think this time will be different?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said softly. "I hope so."

"If it turns out like Chicago did, I don't know if I could stand it," Lilith said so softly that I had to strain to hear her.

Warning bells went off in my head. "Oh, God, Lilith," I whispered. "I can't make any promises about what will or won't happen in Los Angeles, but no matter what, I'm always going to be here when you need me."

When she answered, her voice shook just the tiniest bit. "Why are you so good to me, after everything that's happened?"

"Because I love you!" I exclaimed. "And not just because you're the mother of my son, although Frederick was the best present anyone's ever given me. I love you because you're so strong-willed and amazing and beautiful. You're the most incredible person I've ever known, and I've been blessed to  
have you in my life."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I was beginning to wonder whether I had said the wrong thing. "Lilith?" I asked nervously.

When she spoke, it was clear she was crying again. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear that."

"Oh, sweetheart," I whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't said it more. If it matters, I think it every single day."

She sniffed. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, you'll never have to find out," I assured her. "You know I'll always be here for you."

For a moment, she didn't say anything... if we had been face to face, she probably would have been staring at me with her 'How can you say that?' gaze. "But that's just it," she began. "How can you be here for me? I can't even hold your hand, or hug you, or kiss you... hearing your voice gets me through the day, but..."

"It's not enough," I finished for her.

"No... it's not." She sniffed quietly. "Let's not think about that. Tell me what you did today."

I sighed noticeably. "Lilith..."

Her voice possessed a newfound resolution. "We're complaining that we can't talk to each other," she stated. "I know it's not true. Talk to me."

Why was this so hard? What was I so afraid of? "I went to the bank," I suddenly blurted out. Oh, nice, Frasier. Very romantic.

She chuckled. "Good. Remember how you'd always ask the teller for a lollypop for Frederick when he was too young to even eat it, and you'd bring it home to me instead?"

"If I didn't eat it myself first," I reminded her. "And you know what happened this morning? This woman didn't speak a syllable of English, naturally... just my luck. So instead of making a deposit, apparently I ended up opening two new checking accounts."

"Two? Oh, how convenient." I could almost see her smiling.

"Indeed," I noted. "Then I decided to go to the video store to rent a foreign film I'd heard marvelous things about... and decided against it when I discovered the twenty dollars in late fees on my account."

"Oh, from our movie week!" she exclaimed. It had been a most memorable time. A few weeks ago, Lilith and I rented all the same movies-old romantic favorites and the occasional volume from the satirical Red Shoe Diaries-and watched them together, all week.

"Right," I said. "Of course, the highlight was when the cashier proceeded to list all the movies I owed money on, loud enough for the entire store to hear."

She burst out laughing. "Oh, Frasier."

"I was mortified."

"You think that's bad?" she challenged. "Frederick found my pile of movies by the door. I had to tell him it was research for the lab."

I grinned. "Did he buy it?"

"Who knows."

My heart suddenly stopped, and I fell silent. "Lilith..." I began. "We're..."

She took a deep breath. "Yes... we are."

I knew we could talk to each other. I knew that wasn't gone. And suddenly, I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her the way I used to, years ago, in front of everyone, at random moments...

"Thank you, Frasier," she whispered.

"Roxane, adieu! I soon must die!" I whispered, quoting from one of our favorite movies. " This very night, beloved; and I feel my soul heavy with love untold. I die! No more, as in days of old, my loving, longing eyes will feast on your least gesture-ay, the least!"

"I love that movie," Lilith said softly.

"I mind me the way you touch your cheek with your finger, softly, as you speak! Ah me! I know that gesture well! My heart cries out!-I cry 'Farewell'!"

"The soul, it was your soul," she whispered, continuing on with the scene.

I shook my head. "I loved you not."

"You loved me!" she insisted.

My voice shook. "No!"

"See, how you falter now," she said softly.

A tear ran down my cheek. "No, my sweet love, I never loved you."

"Things dead, long dead, see! how they rise again!" she said quietly. "-Why, why keep silence all these fourteen years, when, on this letter, which he never wrote, the tears were your tears?"

There was a long silence. "Wow," I finally said. "How many times have we seen that movie?"

"Three times last month," Lilith answered. "Or hundreds, if you count when we were married."

"I hadn't seen it in years," I mused. "Probably because it always reminded me of you." There was no reply from her end of the phone, and I began to wonder if I'd said the wrong thing. "Well, I told you about my day. How was yours?"

She sighed. "Rather ordinary. I went to work, came home, helped Frederick with his homework. Nothing special." She paused for a moment. "Actually, there was one notable incident. Guess who I ran into?"

I shrugged. "I'm horrible at guessing. Who?"

"Carla's son, Ludlow."

I remembered him right away. My mentor's son with Carla, whom Lilith and I had babysat for a few weeks while attempting to decide whether or not we wanted children. "Lud!" I exclaimed. "What's he up to?"

Lilith smiled. "He's going to start college soon. Apparently he got a scholarship to some school in Connecticut. He said to tell you he's sorry about the hotfoot incident."

I laughed. "Well, no harm done. My God, I can't believe he's in college already."

"I can't believe Frederick's almost fourteen," Lilith said quietly. "It seems like just yesterday he was a baby."

I sighed quietly to myself. "I feel like I've missed so much," I reflected. "Where has the time gone? What have we been doing? It seems like everything's just flown by in a blur."

"Well, do you think it would have gone slower for us if we'd been together?"

"Not slower... just better," I whispered. It wasn't long before I knew that was something I should have confined to my inner thoughts. "I mean-"

"It's getting late," she stated calmly, stirring her tea. "You should get back to your guests."

"I don't want to," I whined.

"Well, go anyway," she insisted in a tone that almost made me suspect she wanted to be left alone, until she added, "Call me later?"

I smiled, before blinking back a tear. I hated saying good-bye to her, even if it was only for an hour. It only reminded me of all the previous times I'd had to say good-bye... when I left for Seattle, when I came home from Chicago... and every single time we spoke on the phone.

"You don't have to say good-bye," she whispered, and a chill ran down my spine... to think we knew each other just that well.

"Okay. I'll talk to you soon." She answered in agreement, and as I was about to put down the receiver, I stopped. "Lilith?"

"Hmm?"

At the risk of saying yet another thing I should have kept to myself... at the risk of tearing down the wall of casual conversation we were attempting to build... "I can't wait to see you."

"Me neither."

When I finally mustered the strength to leave my room and return to the living room, I noticed something rather odd. Everyone was gone.

Dad walked in from the hallway. "Oh, there you are. Everyone got bored and left."

Fat chance. "What did you do to them?!" I exclaimed.

"Nothing! I was just showing them some of Eddie's new tricks."

Ah. That explained it. Well, there was always a shred of hope left... "What about June?"

"Went home with the caterer."

My jaw dropped. "The Hungarian girl?!"

Dad smiled wickedly. "I guess she likes foreigners."

I marched straight back to my room and grabbed the phone, punched '4' on my speed dial, and waited for one ring... two... three...


	2. Chapter 2

The only flight to Los Angeles left at seven in the morning. As a result, I was one of the first to check in at the conference. I had made a brief search of the hotel, dreading and hoping to find Frasier there, but my efforts turned up nothing. I didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

I registered for the conference in the hotel lobby, and received a schedule for the weekend, some coupons for discounted entrees at the hotel restaurant, and my room key. I unpacked my belongings. I called Frederick to report that I had arrived safely, and to check that he was doing his homework instead of playing video games. And I called room service and requested that they send up an order of roast chicken and a baked potato. Six hours of travelling on nothing but airline food had made me drowsy and lethargic, to make a gross understatement. A little nap couldn't hurt...

A knock on my door roused me out of bed. My food was here. Good, I was starving. I opened the door, and stopped cold.

"Frasier."

He gave me a small smile. "Hello, Lilith."

I frantically tried to smooth down my hair. "Look at me, I'm a mess."

Frasier took my hands. "No, you aren't. You look beautiful."

"Oh, Frasier." I put my arms around him. He hugged me back, and it felt so good to be in his arms again. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he whispered. "You have no idea how much."

"Would you like to come in?" I asked, and regretted it immediately when a panicked expression flickered across his face. "We can leave the door open," I added quickly.

"No, that's all right." My turn to be alarmed, but the feeling faded fast when Frasier hugged me again. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just that it's so good to see you again.

"Me too," I said softly. "It's been a long time since Chicago." Frasier was silent, and I could have kicked myself for bringing that up. "So how was your flight?" I asked quickly in an attempt to change the subject.

He winced. "Hideous. First of all, my plane was delayed for forty minutes because there was an elk on the runway."

I laughed. "An elk?"

"That was my reaction at first," Frasier grinned. "Anyhow, it took half an hour to chase the stupid thing to where they could sedate it and take it away. And when I finally got on the plane, I was bumped from first class."

"Oh, poor baby," I giggled.

"It's not funny," he whined. "I had to sit next to a woman with two kids who kept climbing on my lap during the entire flight!" He pointed to an orange stain on his shirt. "Look at this! That's where little Jimmy spilled his Spaghetti-O's!"

"Oh, Frasier, I'm sorry."

"That would have sounded a lot better if you weren't laughing at me when you said it," he pouted.

I tried to suppress my giggles as I took his hand and dragged him to the bathroom. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up."

He followed behind me, sulking like a little boy, as I made him sit down on the edge of the bathtub while I dipped a washcloth in some hot water. I smiled to myself as I scrubbed it with some soap, and knew that there was nowhere else in the world I would have rather been at that moment.

I reached over and tried to wipe off the stain. "It won't come off," he whined.

Sighing heavily, I nonchalantly unbuttoned his top two buttons to get a better grip on the shirt, before realizing he was staring at me. "What?" I suddenly realized how this must have looked. I was leaning over him, my face inches from his, with one hand on his shoulder and the other holding onto his shirt collar.

He stammered a moment before saying, "I think you might need some stain remover."

Maybe it was the airplane food talking, or maybe it was my simple attempt to see how far I could go without going too far... but I found myself looking straight into his eyes as I whispered, "Take off your shirt."

He stared back. "Lilith..."

"Do you want soap all over yourself?!" I exclaimed, abandoning my bold moves for a more direct and sensible approach.

His mouth formed a slow smile, and I smiled back. "All right," he acquiesced quietly, undoing the rest of the buttons and handing me his shirt.

I tried to ignore my heart's racing, but it became increasingly more difficult. But I put it out of my mind, and stood up to return to the sink. The only problem with this is that I had spilled some water during my earlier endeavors, and slipped backwards. Water was now everywhere-mostly on me-and I landed, of course, in Frasier's arms.

It might have been my imagination, but he seemed to hold on to me a bit tighter than was necessary. Not that I was complaining.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, staring into my eyes.

I stared back. A voice that didn't sound much like mine replied, "I'm fine, thanks."

"That's a relief." He made no effort to let go of me.

"Yes, it is." His face was inches away from mine, and I could feel his warm breath on my face.

Frasier adjusted his grip and pulled me closer to him. "Lilith…" he whispered.

In about ten seconds, he was going to kiss me. I had no objections. I closed my eyes, and then he bent his head down and his lips were on mine.

I had just begun to kiss him back when he pulled away, gently setting me back on my feet. "I'm sorry, Lilith," he apologized. "I don't know what came over me."

I grabbed his shirt and took it back to the sink. I scrubbed furiously, determined not to look at Frasier. If I met his eyes, I was going to start crying, and I couldn't deal with that right now.

"Lilith, please talk to me," Frasier pleaded.

"The stain's almost out," I said shortly. I gave one last scrub and tossed it over to him. "Here's your shirt."

Frasier stood up and came over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Lilith, look at me."

I slowly turned around to face him. "There's nothing to say, Frasier," I said quietly. "Please, just go."

He didn't move. "I think we should talk about this."

"And I think we should just forget about it!" I exclaimed, brushing by him on my way out of the bathroom. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

Frasier followed me out into the bedroom. "Is that what you really want?"

I was going to say "Yes, of course it is!", but instead I started to cry.

"Oh, Lilith," he whispered, putting his arms around me. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry."

Wriggling out of his embrace, I pushed him away and stormed across the room, collapsing on the bed. I hugged a pillow to my chest and sat there, motionless, staring at the wall. I wanted to be alone. I wanted him to hold me. I didn't know what I wanted.

But I knew I wanted that kiss... more than anything. He gave it and then took it away. How could he do that?

For a moment he didn't follow me, but stood still on the other side of the room, watching me, his eyes filled with pain. "Lilith... it happens," he began slowly. "These things happen to people sometimes. And they *always* happen to us. If not now, then later tonight, or sometime this week..." I forced myself to look up at him as he continued. "But we can forget about it... if that's what you want. We... we don't have to let anything else happen. I'm sorry."

"Come here," I said softly. He stared at me in bewilderment, as though wondering if he'd heard me correctly. I put down my pillow and moved over to one side of the bed to make myself clear. Without a word, he came and sat beside me, his eyes not leaving mine for a second.

Not even sure how I was managing the strength to do this, I leaned in and took his hand. "Kiss me," I whispered.

He lowered his eyes. "Lilith, I don't think we should-"

I reached up and put a finger up to his lips. "Not a word," I breathed.

And he kissed me. We must have stayed there for two full minutes, not letting go of one another, kissing as though the world were about to end. At length we fell back onto the bed, and for a moment I began to doubt it all... but then everything became quiet.

As our lips parted, slowly, he pulled away and looked into my eyes. After several moments, I spoke, my voice barely a whisper. "You see?" I told him, unable to keep from breaking into a smile, "It's okay."

As he lay down beside me, I curled up next to him, snuggling into a position that allowed me to be wrapped in his embrace. "How did you know we could..." Is there a right way to finish that sentence? How did I know we could manage it this far without going any further? How did I know this would be all right?

"I just did," I told him.

He propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over, staring at me. "When the time is right," he whispered.

I nodded.

It wasn't long after that before we both fell asleep.

I woke up some hours later, my eyes bleary from sleep, with the very pleasant sensation of having someone in my arms. I looked down and smiled as I saw Lilith curled up next to me, her head resting on my shoulder.

She opened her eyes when I lightly dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Frasier, what time is it?" she mumbled sleepily.

I squinted into the darkness at the alarm clock. "Nine forty-five."

She sat up. "Oh, no," she groaned. "We missed the opening lectures."

Try as I might, I couldn't feel sorry about this. "Does it really matter?" I asked. "They were optional anyhow."

"You're right," she agreed. "God, I'm starving. Room service was supposed to be here ages ago."

"I think they came and left," I confessed. "I heard someone knocking on the door, but I was too tired to get up."

"Frasier!" she scolded, hitting me with a pillow.

"I was tired!" I whined. "And you were asleep!"

Lilith looked like she wanted to say something else, but changed her mind at the last moment. "It's not important. I forgive you."

I hugged her. "Good. What do you say I make up for this by taking you out to dinner?"

She grinned at me. "Anything I want?"

"Anything," I agreed. "Although considering that the airline lost my luggage, and the only shirt I have is currently in the bathroom with spaghetti stains on it, we might not want to go to any five star restaurants tonight."

"Oh, Frasier." She looked like she was trying not to laugh. "How do you get into these situations?"

"I don't know," I whined. "It's not my fault."

Lilith got up out of bed. "I'll tell you what," she began. "Why don't we go buy you a shirt down at the gift shop, and then we can go out for Chinese?"

I looked at her skeptically. "One of those tacky touristy shirts with Mickey Mouse on it?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No," I admitted. "Oh, all right. Just as long as we don't run into anyone from the conference."

She laughed. "Not a chance." She went into the bathroom for a moment and came out with my shirt, which she dropped into my lap. "Now put that on, unless you'd prefer to go downstairs shirtless."

"It's up to you, my dear," I teased, kissing her quickly. Which turned into several, longer kisses.

"That was very nice," Lilith whispered when we finally broke away. "But I'm still hungry."

I sighed in mock exasperation. "I give you some of my best stuff, and all you can think about is food."

"Oh, Frasier," she giggled, holding out my shirt once again. "Put this on and let's go."

I tossed it on the bed before grabbing her around the waist and pulling her down beside me. Before long, we were both sprawled on the bed laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh, fine, I'll do it," she sighed in between laughter, trying to become serious. "Sit up-stop that!" she laughed as I attempted to tickle her.

I obeyed and watched as she pulled the shirt around me and proceeded to fasten the buttons. She slowed down after the first two buttons, and finally stopped altogether at the fourth.

"Well, good enough," she said softly. "We're just going to get you out of it in a minute." At this, I looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and she shot back a sultry smile before getting up to rummage through her suitcase. "I'll be right back," she said, slipping into the bathroom with a pile of clothes.

While I waited, I found my jacket over on the chair. Reaching into the pocket, I pulled out a small white envelope and sat down with it on the bed. Inside where the reprints I'd made her of the photos from our honeymoon. I found my favorite, put it on top, and placed the envelope inside a book of hers on the dresser.

Lilith emerged from the bathroom attempting to button up the back of her blouse. "I don't know how we're going to stay awake for those lectures tomorrow," she mused, positioning herself in front of the mirror. "I'm not going to be getting much sleep tonight."

I was tempted to take this in the way she obviously hadn't meant it, but I concealed my smile. I stood up and went over to her, brushing away her hair from the back of her neck, and fastened a button she'd missed. "I don't think anyone will notice if we sleep through them," I remarked.

"Except maybe the..." her voice melted to a whisper. "...speakers."

Suddenly I realized my hands were still on her shoulders, and I froze. "I forgot to tell you something today," I remarked softly.

She turned around to face me. "Oh?"

"I love you," I told her, pulling her closely to me.

"I love you, too."

We stayed there for a moment until I finally pulled away and kissed her on the cheek. "All right then. Off we go."

The gift shop was hardly my idea of a proper clothing store. It was a tossup between the aforementioned Mickey Mouse shirt and the one with flowers and palm trees. I opted for the latter, but only if Lilith would agree to get one too. I wasn't going to be the only one looking ludicrous.

"I look like a tourist," I whined as we made our way down the street, hand in hand. "All I need is a pair

of Mickey Mouse ears to complete the picture."

"Frasier." Lilith looked at me. "You live in Seattle. I live in Boston. Like it or not, we're tourists."

"No we're not!" I insisted. "Not real tourists. It's not like we're running around in Bermuda shorts snapping pictures of everything that says 'California'!"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever makes you happy."

The first two restaurants were closed. After walking what felt like three miles down the road, we found

Chang's Chinese Cuisine, and after twenty minutes of waiting, managed to get a booth near the restrooms.

Unfortunately, the name Frasier Crane meant nothing outside of Seattle. Since it was so late at night, the restaurant was out of cashew chicken and Mongolian Beef. We settled on sweet and sour chicken, with extra egg rolls on the side.

"The service stinks," I complained. "We should complain to the manager about this."

"I think we did pretty well, considering it's past ten thirty at night," Lilith commented quietly.

I reached across the table and took her hand in mine "It's so wonderful to be able to do this," I whispered. "I've missed being able to touch you."

She squeezed my hand. "Me too."

I looked up to see our waiter standing by the table. Along with about ten other people, including every other waiter in the restaurant, and an older couple who I assumed owned the place. "Can I help you?" I asked politely, aware of the irony.

The old man stepped forward. "On behalf of Chang's, we'd like to wish you a happy anniversary, and many more to come."

Lilith opened her mouth, but nothing came out. I wasn't having much luck either. "Oh, I think there's been-"

"It's obvious how much the two of you care for each other," our waiter added. "I only hope my wife and I will be as happy as you are."

I finally managed to find my voice. "Thank you, but I believe there's been a mistake."

Our waiter looked confused. "Aren't you the Harts?"

Lilith shook her head. "I'm Lilith Sternin, and this is my ex-husband, Frasier Crane."

"Oh." Everyone looked embarrassed.

"We're over here," a woman called from two tables away. "My Amos and I are celebrating our seventh anniversary today."

"I'm sorry," our waiter mumbled to us before following everyone over to congratulate the Harts.

Lilith and I sat in silence for a few minutes. I picked at my rice. She slowly shredded her napkin.

"Are you all right?" I asked quietly.

"I'm fine," she said softly. "I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought I was."

"Me either." I picked up the bill, took out my wallet, and threw two twenties on the table. "Come on, let's get out of here."

She nodded and rose from her chair without a word. I reached for her hand to lead her out the front door, but she went ahead of me and was out before I'd even left the table. "Lilith... honey, wait." I ran past the Harts and the rest of the staring tables and made my way out the door. There she was, in the nearly empty parking lot, pacing back and forth.

I went to her and took her hand.

"Frasier, don't!" she commanded, leaving me and heading towards the sidewalk. Even in the darkness, I could see the tears glistening on her face. I didn't know if she really wanted me to let her go, or to go after her... naturally, I went after her.

"Lilith, I'm sorry about what happened... what can I do?" I pleaded. "It wasn't my fault."

"I didn't say it was your fault," she said quietly, not stopping to turn around.

Following close behind, I eventually fell into step with her. "Would you stop for a minute?"

"I just want to go home," she said, her voice quavering.

"Lilith..."

"This was a bad idea, I never should have come here," she sobbed, turning around and beginning to pace again. "I don't know what I was thinking."

There was a chill in the air, and I removed my jacket upon thinking it might come in handy in a few moments. "Lilith, listen..." I began hesitantly. "It's been a long day, for both of us-"

"For God's sake, Frasier, would you just shut up and hold me?"

I was at her side in an instant, wrapped the jacket around her, and stroked her hair as she cried on my shoulder.

I sighed. Women.

"My angel... I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I wish this could be easy. I wish we could just be together like... people tend to be. I'm sorry everything's harder for us."

She lifted her head and wiped away a remaining tear that hadn't been absorbed by my jacket. "Let's not talk about it," she decided.

We continued to walk down the sidewalk, slower this time. She snuggled against me and I put my arm around her, enjoying the feeling of her warm body close to mine. There was silence for a few minutes, until I discovered we had strayed off our chosen road and onto a more... lively street.

She looked up at the places around us, lining each side of the street... dance halls, strip joints, clubs... everything we were unaccustomed to.

I looked at her, and she shot me a mischievous grin. "Shall we?"

She grinned back. "I'm game if you are."

"All right, then." I took her hand, and led her inside.

The nightclub was hot and smoky, and music that resembled a cat being tortured was blaring. "The music's so loud!" I yelled to Lilith.

She looked confused. "What?" she shouted back. "The blues are proud?"

I took her hand and led her to a table in the back corner. It was surrounded by teenagers making out, but at least we could hear one another.

Our waiter approached, a boy who couldn't have been older than twenty, with blue and purple hair and two nose rings. How charming. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Oh, God, yes," I answered. "Two Scotches, and what would you like, Lilith?"

She hit me playfully. "Just the Scotches. Although you may need to bring more later on."

The boy looked at us as if we each had two heads. "All right."

When he brought us our drinks, I sent him back for more. By the fifth round, Lilith had moved onto my lap, and was giggling uncontrollably, over what, I had no idea. I wasn't much better off, and was entertaining myself by mimicking the dancers out on the floor. To the amusement of Lilith, and the other teenagers in our area, when they broke apart for air.

"Oh, Frasier," Lilith giggled, getting up and pulling me to my feet. "Come on, dance with me."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her body close to mine. Who was I to complain?

"Frasier?" she said softly.

"Mmm?"

"You smell like smoke," she announced, going off into another gale of giggles. "But I love you anyhow."

I held her tighter. "I love you too, angel."

She lifted her head from my shoulder so we were staring into each others eyes. "What are you thinking right now?"

I smiled. "I'm thinking that you're so very adorable when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunker than you," she protested, gripping my shirt with one hand.

"I think we're both over our limits," I admitted. "I just hope we can get back to the hotel."

She rested her head on my shoulder. "The hotel... oh, is that where we're staying?" She seemed to find this uproariously amusing and went off into a fit of laughter once more, nearly toppling over me on the dance floor.

Trying to contain my own alcohol-induced bouts of laughter, I lifted her up and set her gently on her feet. "Maybe we should get going," I suggested. "I'm starting to forget what colors things are," I added, glancing up at the red television screen.

"I do have that effect on men," she declared loudly.

"Lilith!" I exclaimed, trying not to laugh.

"All right, let's go," she called to the dance floor occupants in general. "Frasier, you should come with me, I think you're going in my direction..." She looked over at me and formed her mouth into a small, bewitching grin. "To the hotel, I mean."

"Come to me, my little tequila shot," I said, picking her up and carrying her across the room to the door. How I managed to get out of there without dropping her is beyond comprehension.

Halfway to the hotel, between falling over each other and just falling over, I finally stopped, attempting to stand still, and took both her hands in mine. "Lilith, you know what we should do?" I whispered.

"Get married!" she exclaimed, pointing behind me. I turned around, adjusting to the blurriness of my eyes, and beheld the building behind us-a wedding chapel.

If this wasn't fate, I don't know what was.

"I was going to say go swimming, but this is even better!" I smiled, kissing her quickly and following her across the street.

It might have been an hour later... it might have been three hours later. I can't remember exactly when we both stumbled into the hotel room, clinging to each other for dear life. I don't think we'd stopped kissing since we left the chapel. And as a result, we'd nearly caused three car accidents, and I had just bumped into the maid's broom closet in the hallway... I felt like a teenager again.

Finally, once we were inside the room, all was silent. And dark. I couldn't even hear the distant humming of cars, but that's probably because I was drunk. Absolutely smashed. I couldn't remember when I'd been this plastered. I doubt I'd ever been.

But if Frasier was beside me, that's all I cared about.

He closed the door behind us and turned back to me. I'd strolled backwards to the other end of the room, and stood there, watching him with wide eyes. I had no idea what was going to happen... I didn't care. I was scared, but more than anything I was exhilarated.

My heart began pounding as he let go of the door and slowly walked over to me, putting one hand up to my cheek. "I love you so much," he breathed.

It took me a minute to find my voice. "You do?" He nodded.

"I love you too," I told him. Slowly, I lifted my hand and began aimlessly fiddling with a button on his shirt, as his eyes never left mine. Unfastening them was harder than I'd thought. Once that was through, I went on to the second one... after about a minute of this, I took a step back.

"Lilith..."

"Oh, to hell with this," I whispered, tearing off the shirt and pressing my lips against his.

We didn't say anything else after that.

I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. The sun burned my eyes, and I rolled over, trying to escape from its rays. God, it was hot in here. Even my pillow was too warm for my taste.

Suddenly my pillow changed positions, and I fell down six inches onto the bed. "What the…" I mumbled, painfully opening my eyes to see what had happened. "Oh, Frasier."

Frasier? I sat up, suddenly wide awake, and not caring about the bright sunlight stinging my eyes. Oh, God, what was he doing here? What happened last night? I vainly searched my memory, but all I could remember was wobbily dancing in his arms at that club. The rest was a complete blank. Oh, my God.

Frasier slept on peacefully, unaware of the catastrophe at hand. His shirt was wrinkled from sleeping in it, but I doubted he'd care about that. Wait a minute. I carefully pulled back the covers to reveal him asleep, in his boxers and that T-shirt he'd complained so much about last night. I looked down at myself. I was wearing my nightgown, like I always did.

Okay. We were both clothed. Maybe nothing had happened after all. We had both had a lot to drink. Most likely we had staggered back to the hotel, changed into sleeping attire, and passed out. That must have been it. I would have remembered if it had been otherwise.

Frasier began to stir. "Lilith…" he mumbled sleepily, reaching across the bed for me.

I took his hand. "I'm right here."

"Head hurts," he whined. "Too bright."

"I know," I assured him, curling up next to him. "Mine does too."

He opened his eyes and smiled at me. "Well, well, well, isn't this a lovely way to wake up?" He blinked, and stared at me.

"Frasier, are you all right?" I asked. "You look terrible!"

"Oh my God!" he yelled, breaking away from me and jumping out of bed. "What did we do?"

"Do you remember what happened last night?" I asked hopefully. "I can't remember a thing."

He shook his head. "Neither do I. But waking up in bed together isn't a good sign."

"Are you sure anything happened?" I asked. "We both had a lot to drink last night."

"That's what I'm worried about!" he exclaimed. "We both agreed to wait for the right time. Now what do we do?"

I got out of bed. "Frasier, we both shared this bed for a nap yesterday afternoon, and nothing happened. And if anything had happened, I'm sure we would both be considerably less dressed than we are now."

Frasier glanced over my nightgown, and his own shirt and boxers. "You have a point."

"We don't have any reason to believe that last night wasn't perfectly innocent," I continued. "So let's not waste our time together worrying about what we did or didn't do."

I wanted to believe it... more than anything I did. But one look at her betrayed her beliefs. She was glowing, even if she didn't know it. And she was so quiet, so reflective. Exactly the way she always was after we'd spent an especially intense night together. It was almost instinctive... it's simply the way she is.

But I only nodded.

"I'm just going to go wash my face," she said quietly, slipping into the bathroom.

I collapsed on the bed and closed my eyes, striving desperately to recall something, anything... all I could think of was sitting in the club, downing one drink after another, and dancing with her out on the floor... carrying her out of the club, trying to walk home, stopping at the...

My heart leapt into my throat.

Oh, dear God.

In one swift movement, I seized my jacket that was lying across the back of a nearby chair and dug around in the pockets. At length, I discovered one with a piece of paper inside. With trembling hands, I unfolded it and dared to lower my eyes to read its contents.

It was a marriage certificate. Dated July 2, 2001.

Yesterday.

It was *our* marriage certificate.

How in God's name could I have forgotten THAT? Everything suddenly came pouring back into my memory at once. The dim lights of the chapel. The quiet, musty room where we exchanged our vows, not even comprehending what we were doing. The little rice-throwing machine at the Exit door.

And then... of course. Afterwards. The hotel room was so dark and silent. You could hear a pin drop. There weren't any nightlights... we couldn't see anything, except each other, and only when we were inches apart. Which we were, if that, most of the night. I told her how much I loved her and she just looked up at me with those beautiful, innocent eyes and said, "You do?" I carried her over to the bed and we made love just like we did years ago... without worrying about the consequences. Or whether it was the right time. Or whether we would regret it tomorrow. And it was heaven.

"Stupid faucets-the hot is actually cold even though it says hot, but the cold is labeled correctly, so... this should be interesting," Lilith remarked, emerging from the bathroom.

Snapping out of my daydream, I stuffed the paper back into my jacket and tried to smile. "It's better in my room. You can use it if you like."

She smiled, but barely. "Thank you, Frasier." I was having a hard time looking her in the eyes, and to make it all worse, she came and sat down beside me, cradling my hand in both of hers. "You know," she began softly, "I wouldn't mind if you stayed here with me this week. It's... it's nice having someone to wake up with."

"Even nicer having someone to fall asleep with," I noted.

Looking away, she lowered her voice to a wistful "Yes," and squeezed my hand. I put my arm around her and she rested her head against my chest. Together we fell back on the bed and stayed in that embrace for several minutes.

She would never have allowed me to hold her like that if she'd known...

She would never have seemed so peaceful.

She had no idea.

We arrived early to the first lecture, for two reasons. First, we felt guilty about missing the previous night's activities. Second, we wanted to obtain seats in the back, where it wouldn't be as obvious if we weren't paying attention.

It turned out that we arrived just in time, as several other people had the same idea. We managed to secure the last two seats in the back row, slipping past another couple, and receiving dirty looks for our trouble.

Lilith tugged on my sleeve. "If I sat on your lap, we'd only need one chair," she whispered.

I tried not to show how guilty I felt as I smiled and kissed her. I was amazed I hadn't shown it before now. For as long as we'd known each other, Lilith had been able to tell when I was hiding something from her. Maybe-the thought made me sit up straight in my chair-she knew as well, and was subconsciously denying that it happened. That would explain her ignorance to my guilty reactions, as well as her lack of memory of last night's very memorable events.

Then again, she'd had a lot to drink, and the alcohol could very easily be the reason for her amnesia. It was impossible to tell, but the important thing was that she didn't remember.

Lilith took my hand and rested it against her cheek. "I love you," she whispered, smiling at me.

I put my arm around her. "I love you too."

The lecture was long and dull, just as I had known it would be. Fortunately, Lilith had brought a notepad and paper with her. Presumably to take notes, and indeed, she wrote a lot while Dr. Janson was speaking.

"How much longer do we have?" she jotted down. "I'm starving."

I checked my watch. "Thirty-five minutes," I wrote back.

She took the notepad, and I had to stifle my laughter as I read what she had written. "Is that a bad toupee, or did a rat die on his head?" Despite my best efforts, a guffaw escaped, and immediately the eyes of the entire room were on me.

"Is there something you'd like to share, Dr. Crane?" Dr. Janson asked in that whiny, high-pitched voice of his.

I put on my best innocent expression. "I'm sorry, Doctor. Please continue."

He went back to his lecture, and I very slowly took the notepad and wrote "Uh, oh, I'm in trouble now."

"If you're not good, you're going to have to stand in front of the room with your nose to the chalkboard," Lilith scribbled back.

I snickered, and Dr. Janson was on me again. "Maybe the class would like to know what's so amusing," he snapped, snatching the notepad from my hands.

His eyes scanned the page, and I watched in fascination as his ears turned redder and redder. "Dr. Crane, Dr. Sternin, please leave the room," he scowled, pointing towards the door. Lilith and I had no choice but to gather our things and make a quick retreat.

Once we were safely on the other side of the closed door, I let out my guffaw again, this time more noticeably, and Lilith followed suit. "Can you believe that?" I exclaimed. "I feel like I'm in high school again."

"Frasier, you were never a bad boy in high school," she giggled.

"No, but if I had been, look how much fun I'd have had!"

She took my hand and began running towards the elevator. "Forget the lectures. We don't need them. Not today, at least."

While I was trying to deduce what exactly she meant by that, we both simultaneously tripped over a hidden garbage can in the hallway as we turned the corner. I went flying, and Lilith landed on top of me... not an altogether unpleasant state.

I stared up into her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, certainly," she replied, not moving a muscle. "I can't walk, but... sure. I'm fine."

"Oh, sugar cookie. Come here." I stood up, carried her over to the elevator, and pressed the Up button. "We'll get you all fixed up as soon as we get upstairs."

I smiled as she rested her head against my shoulder, and I suddenly knew I never wanted to be away from her ever again.

Upon entering the hotel room, I placed her gently on the bed and went off to the bathroom to create a makeshift bandage with washcloths and an old tshirt. I grabbed a few pieces of ice from the cooler, wrapped them up, and sat beside her on the bed.

"How does it feel?" I asked after putting the finishing touches on my work; namely, a quick kiss on her cheek.

"It's perfect," she decided, pulling me in for a more meaningful kiss, and in only seconds I found us both in significantly more compromising positions than we'd been in moments before.

Not only did I not want to move, but considering her arms were now wrapped around me, I don't think I could have. "Sweetheart, I think I should..." I began, as it turns out, fruitlessly.

"Frasier," she whispered, "I think... it's now."

I stared at her. "What?"

She drew in a deep breath. "I trust you."

I turned pale. She trusted me. I was lying to her... keeping from her perhaps the biggest secret I could possibly keep... and she not only trusted me, but was open enough to say so... was this my Lilith? So repressed? So reserved? And here she was, offering everything to me... and I couldn't accept it. I wanted to kick myself.

"Do you really?" I asked her.

Slowly, she nodded. "Unconditionally."

I tried to swallow, but couldn't. "Then trust me..." I whispered, "when I tell you that the right time... is not now."

"Don't be afraid," she whispered, kissing me again. "Just have faith and everything will turn out all right."

It took every bit of effort I could summon to pull myself away. "No." I shook my head. "Not yet."

Lilith sat up. "Frasier, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

I couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, Lilith, I have to go now."

Her face fell and she turned away. "Then go," she said flatly. "If we're not going to be honest with

each other, then there's no point to this."

I went over and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Please, Frasier." She looked up at me, her eyes filled with tears. "Just leave."

"I'll be back later," I whispered. I kissed her on the forehead and left the room.

Ten o'clock came and went, with no sign of Frasier. I called his room every five minutes, with no luck.

Either he was out, or he was avoiding me. I was still upset with him for the morning's events, but not nearly as much as I was upset with myself. We had agreed to wait for the right time, and I had practically thrown myself at him. I shouldn't have rushed him. This was all my fault.

I snapped off the TV and began pacing up and down the room. I had taken a shower and put on my nightgown. I had attempted to work on my book. I had watched repeats of old TV shows for hours. And if I stayed in this room any longer, I was going to scream.

I put on a bathrobe and took the elevator down to the lobby, intending to get something to eat at the all-night diner. As I passed the lounge, the sound of "Hungarian Rhapsody" made me look in, and there he was. Sitting at the piano, pounding at furiously the keys.

He was so absorbed in his playing that he didn't notice me as I softly walked into the room and came up behind him. The notes fell down around us like rain. When he finished, he wiped the sweat off of his forehead, and I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Frasier." He turned to look at me, and I wanted to cry at the hurt expression in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Lilith." He stood up and hugged me tightly. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a kiss. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered.

I put my arms around his neck and kissed him again. "You know I love you."

He smiled and untied my bathrobe from around my waist, letting it slip down to the floor, leaving me standing there in nothing but my nightgown. In return, I began to unbutton his shirt.

"Wait a minute," he whispered. Before I knew it, he had picked me up and sat me on the piano. My foot brushed against the keyboard, sending a string of notes into the air.

Frasier laughed. "Concerto in C Major, by Lilith Sternin," he joked, kissing me again.

I looked around nervously. "Are we alone?"

His hands slid up and down the sides of my nightgown. "I've been the only one in here for the last two hours."

I finished unbuttoning his shirt, and peeled it off of him. "Good," I whispered. "Perfect."

My heart was racing. I had no idea what I was doing... but I wanted this too much. I put every doubtful thought out of my mind and just stopped. I pulled away for an instant and looked at my wife...

My wife.

We were married... and only one of us knew it.

This was exactly the kind of thought I needed to be putting out of my mind... despite the consequences. And my God, would there ever be consequences. But I did. I forgot everything and took her in my arms the way I'd wanted to do for the last two months, and didn't look back.

I half-awoke, finding myself feeling heavier than usual. Once I was able to wake the other half, I opened my eyes. Looking directly in front of me, I saw the faint outline of a piano... lowering my eyes, I saw... her.

She was asleep on top of me, wrapped somewhat in a blanket, from which I had no idea where it came. The room was still dark, and I suspected it was still early morning...

Oh my God, what had I done?

It's not that I didn't want to be there... more than anything in the world. But the entire experience was tarnished, in a way that could never be erased.

I had betrayed her trust.

I had let this happen, without even telling her... how could I possibly tell her now?

She stirred, letting her hair slide down her back, and lifted her head, gazing at me. It was as if she knew. "Hi," she whispered.

I stroked her cheek. "Hello, my love." Pulling the blanket around her, she sat up and stared into the darkness. I reached underneath the blanket and found her hand. "Are you okay?"

Lilith nodded aimlessly before turning back to me. "Are you?" she asked meaningfully. I nodded, but she only turned away and sighed. "Promise me you're being honest."

Putting all of those thoughts out of my mind again, I sat up beside her and pulled her close to me. "I promise," I whispered.

She gently stroked my face. "You don't regret what happened last night?"

I kissed her softly. "Never." I stood up, and reached my hand to her. "What do you say we get back to our room before someone finds us here?"

She took my hand and followed me to the elevators. She was so innocent and trusting, and it made me feel sick to think about what I had done to her. When we got to our room, I put my arms around her and hugged her fiercely.

Lilith looked surprised, but returned my embrace. "What was that for?"

I tried to smile. "Just because I love you."

She kissed me, and said "I love you too" with such honesty and innocence that I couldn't bear the guilt anymore.

I had to tell her.

I looked at her, her eyes filled with love and trust. She would never look at me that way again, once I had told her. That would be my punishment, and I couldn't think of anything worse. I took her in my arms and kissed her once more, desperately trying to take in everything at once. Her soft, silky hair between my fingers. Her arms around my neck. The pleasant warmth of her body against mine. I held on to her like a drowning man, not wanting to let go.

She pulled back slightly. "Frasier, are you all right?"

I opened my mouth to tell her, and no sound came out. I tried again. Still nothing.

"Frasier, what is it?"

I took her by the shoulders and looked into her beautiful dark eyes. "I love you so much," I breathed. "No matter what happens, don't forget that."

She nodded. "Okay."

"Promise me," I insisted. "Promise me you won't forget."

"I promise," she whispered. "But Frasier, what's wrong? You're starting to scare me."

"I just need a drink of water," I said quickly. "I'll be back in a moment."

I stayed in the bathroom for twenty minutes, staring at my reflection in the mirror. How could I be such a coward? And then I realized, I wasn't afraid of anything that would happen to me. What I dreaded was hurting her. I had promised to love and cherish her for the rest of our days, and here I was, about to drive a knife into her heart.

But I had to tell her. I would only make it worse by waiting. So I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door, finally ready to tell her the truth.

Lilith was curled up on the bed, asleep. She looked so young and innocent that I couldn't bear to wake her. Instead, I joined her on the bed and spread the covers over us.

It was still early in the day.

I would tell her when we woke up.

When I opened my eyes, they fell directly on the small clock resting on the nightstand. Ten-thirty in the morning... the first lecture started in half an hour. Rolling over drowsily, I saw Frasier, curled up against me, sleeping like a baby.

I didn't want to think about anything but last night, and how incredible it had been. I would have been content to lie there next to him all day, just reflecting on what we had shared. But all I could think of at the moment was how worried I was about him. It's not as though he seemed to feel regretful... but rather guilty. And that's what perplexed me the most. What did he have to be guilty about? We were adults. This was familiar territory. And, most importantly... we loved each other. Hopelessly. No matter what happens... I don't think that could ever change.

I only wished I could talk to him about it... I wanted so desperately to understand him. But if there was one thing I knew about Frasier, it was that he deals with everything in his own time... I couldn't pressure him.

That didn't stop me from feeling utterly helpless.

So I did the only thing I felt I could do... I put my arm around him and rested my head against his chest. It wasn't long before I felt his hand stroking my back, and I looked up into his eyes. I wanted to say something, but everything that made sense in my head died when it reached my lips, and I fell silent.

He had that same look in his eyes, just as he had earlier... like he wanted to say something, but couldn't. Much as I did. "Hi, angel-face," he whispered.

His lips brushed lightly against mine, and I stared at him. There had to be a way to draw this out of him without pressuring him... oh, that didn't sound devious or anything. I sighed inwardly, and took a deep breath. "Frasier... is there anything you want to talk about?"

His face was blank. It must have been my imagination, but he almost turned pale.

"Because, if there is..." I went on quickly, "I just hope you know that... you can tell me anything. You know that. Right?" My voice quavered towards the end, as I began reflecting on the immensity of what I was asking him. I had no idea what was going on in his mind, and part of me was suddenly afraid to find out. And I was more upset at that than anything. I never wanted to be afraid of anything he would tell me.

But I was.

All of a sudden he turned away, almost as though he couldn't bear to look me in the eye any longer. Wonderful. Now, on top of putting him on the spot, I'd scared him away too. Who was feeling guilty *now*?

I quickly sat up, hating myself for ever having brought this up in the first place, and pulled on my robe. "The first lecture starts in half an hour," I said quietly, deliberately avoiding meeting his gaze. "We don't want to be late again."

"Right." He gladly took the change of subject, and began to put on his shirt.

"Here, let me." I reached over to help. It didn't go too well. The buttons wouldn't go into the buttonholes, and I snapped two off altogether. "I suppose I'm better at unbuttoning," I said with a seductive glance at him.

That uneasy look in his eyes returned. "Lilith..."

"I'm sorry." I quickly gathered up some of my clothes. "I'll just change in the bathroom."

We didn't say much when I came out, or on our way to the conference room for the lecture. It was another dull, dry speech, and I had forgotten my notepad in the hotel room. Not like it would have helped much. Frasier appeared to be absorbed in the theories of conditioning and desensitization. To anyone else it would appear that he was fascinated by the lecture. Except I knew that he thought these theories were, in his words, "total crap."

The room was freezing. It appeared that the hotel management was attempting to compensate for the stifling outside weather by turning up the air conditioning so that conditions were just a little warmer than sub-Arctic. I tried not to show how cold I was, but Frasier noticed my shivering and finally paid some attention to me, draping his jacket around my shoulders.

"Thank you," I whispered, pulling it on. I held it close to me, sniffing the comforting scent of Frasier's aftershave. He had worn the same brand for as long as I had known him, and it always made me feel safe.

My hands were still cold. "My God, are they trying to freeze us?" I whispered, sticking my hands in the jacket pockets.

Frasier laughed softly. "You live in Boston. Aren't you used to the cold?"

"The cold, yes," I replied. "Snow and ice don't bother me at all. It's only psychotic air conditioners that I have trouble with."

He smiled at me and turned back to the lecture. I was completely lost by now, so I entertained myself by exploring the pocket contents. A pack of gum. Some change. And-I pulled it out to get a better look-a folded piece of paper.

Something warned me not to look, but I couldn't see the harm in it. The paper looked perfectly innocent. I unfolded it. And caught my breath.

It was a marriage certificate.

My and Frasier's marriage certificate.

Dated two days ago.

Oh my God.

My memories came back all at once, pouring into my brain and flashing before me. The wedding ceremony. Afterwards in the hotel room. We had gotten married. Oh my God.

I was so shocked that it took a few minutes for the other truth to sink in. I had found this paper in Frasier's jacket. Which meant that he had known. That's why he was acting so strangely. He had kept this from me. Had lied to me. Last night...he had let that happen...he hadn't even told me...

Frasier chose that moment to turn away from the lecture and look at me. The expression on his face was one of complete and utter horror.

In the moments that ensued, my entire thought process was focused on a way to get out of this. It's a joke, I could say. We went to some tacky souvenir shop where you can buy fake certificates, and... I just forgot all about it the next morning...

But then I stopped, peeling my eyes away from the sheet of paper in her trembling hands, and looking up into her eyes. They were welled up with tears, gazing at me, terrified. And my heart sank. It wasn't a look of innocence and trust, like last night. It was just as I'd known it would be... afraid, and hurt, and betrayed, and lost... I had done this. I had made that look appear in her eyes. Last night I had taken advantage of her trust, and her love... and now I may never get either one back.

"Lilith, wait..." I whispered, as though I suspected she could read my thoughts and was planning her response.

The tears became too numerous to hold back, and began flowing down her face. "How could you?"

I didn't have time to even think before she leapt out of her chair and ran from the room. Taking no notice of the stares that followed us, I ran after her. She was standing in middle of the empty hallway, motionless.

"Lilith, please. Don't do this." I longed to take her in my arms, but I knew that was a freedom I no longer had.

She didn't move. "Don't do what?" she whispered shakily.

I took a step towards her cautiously. She took one backwards. "You remember what I told you this morning," I began. "I told you to promise me something."

"And I asked you to be honest with me, and you weren't!" she cried.

She was right. I couldn't bear that she could say something like that and be telling the truth. She was the only honest one in this room. And that was more than I could handle. "I was as honest as I could be!" I exclaimed defensively, wondering where the truth was in that. "I wanted to tell you, I was just waiting for the..." My voice fell, and I wished I didn't have to finish the sentence at all. Not with this phrase. "...right time," I concluded, barely audible to myself.

Her gaze never left me, but I found it impossible to look up at her again... after what I'd just said. How we had obsessed over waiting for that obscure 'right time' in our relationship, and how we had obviously failed. But that was my fault. I had failed her. I had deceived her. And I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.

"The right time," she repeated in a whisper. "And when would that have been? Next month? Maybe a few years from now? Never?"

"I was going to tell you today," I insisted, speaking my only truth in the entire matter. "But I was afraid," I said quietly, "and justifiably so."

She took another step back and was stopped by a wall. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "So this is my fault?"

"It was your idea!"

"I was plastered!" she retorted. "Not to mention you didn't seem to complain too much." Tears came flowing again, as I suspected more details of the night's memories were coming back to her, and I wondered how on earth I could say what I was about to.

I threw my arms up in exasperation. "What about you?" I demanded. "You were all over me the next day as if nothing had happened. What happened to waiting for the right moment?"

The expression on her face was enough to tell me I'd gone too far. After everything I'd done, I was putting this on her. I had blatantly betrayed her the night before, risking everything we had... and I was reproving her for coming onto me, at a time when she needed me... when all she'd needed was my honesty. And I couldn't even give her that.

"I don't think you have any right to criticize me after what you did," she said quietly. And she was absolutely right. Any offenses she had committed faded away to nothing next to my actions. She began crying softly again, and her next words broke my heart. "What were you planning on doing? Divorcing me after you got bored?"

"I never wanted to divorce you at all!" I exclaimed. "That's why I didn't tell you!"

She was silent for a moment, contemplating my words. I watched her nervously. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. "If you weren't going to divorce me, what were you planning on doing?"

I opened and shut my mouth without a sound. There was no way I could answer that to her satisfaction, or to mine.

"Do you want us to be married and see each other once or twice a year?" she continued.

At that moment, I would have sworn off alcohol for the rest of my life if it would undo this whole ugly mess. Before the conference, we had spent hours planning out how quickly we should move, and had a fail-proof game plan for the entire week. Which was shot to hell after a series of scotches and tequila shooters.

Lilith was looking at me, waiting for an answer. "I was going to tell you today" was the best I could come up with.

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?" she asked softly.

I had no answer for that. Instead, I took the worst possible action and got defensive again. "Because I knew you'd react like this!"

Lilith looked like she wanted to say something else, but turned away instead. "Never mind," she said quietly. "I'm going home."

I would rather have had her scream at me, or slap me, anything but this quiet, heartbroken manner. "Lilith, no. Please."

"I'm sorry," she stated again. "I have to go home."

I reached forward and took her by the arm. "Please," I begged. "Don't do this."

She stepped back out of my grasp. "I need some time to think."

"Honey, we can get through this together," I pleaded. "You can't leave." I had a horrible feeling that if she left, I'd never see her again.

"I can't stay," she repeated, and the determination in her face let me know that she couldn't be talked out of this. "I need to decide how I feel about you."

I nodded slowly. "I love you," I whispered.

She put her arms around my waist and kissed me. I kissed back desperately, not knowing if I would ever see her again. And then she turned away and left, leaving me standing in the hallway with tears in my eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

The door barely had a chance to slam behind me before I collapsed on the bed, burying my face in pillows. I didn't even have the strength to kick off my shoes or pull the blanket around me. The scent of Frasier's cologne still lingered on the sheets, and while I would have otherwise spent the rest of the day there just to be near that familiarity, I now only wanted to get away from it.

Knowing it would hardly be productive to sit around my room sobbing all afternoon, I forced myself to sit up and wipe my eyes with a Kleenex. I tossed it angrily into the trash, rose from the bed, and snatched my suitcase off the floor, slamming it down onto the bed. If I didn't do this now, I would lose my nerve. And I knew I couldn't stay here. I would only be setting myself up to be betrayed all over again. We certainly couldn't stay married, though God knows why, and I knew I couldn't face the procedure of undoing this devastating mistake.

Furiously, I began stuffing items into the suitcase, with little of the orderliness in which I had originally packed them. A few items were Frasier's, and I left them in a pile on one of the armchairs. He had a key to my room. He could come and get them if he wanted them.

All I felt was that my entire world had fallen, and I began thinking of what it must have been like for Frasier, when he left me in Boston nearly ten years ago. It was as though I was having to start a new life over again. And it wasn't even the same; it's not like we were married this time...

The realization struck me hard. For the first time since I saw that piece of paper, I was actually able to grasp fully what had happened.

We were married.

Frasier wasn't a past lover with whom I was spending a mindless week-long fling. He was my husband.

My legs gave way and I fell back onto the bed, clutching a book I'd been about to toss into the suitcase, when something white fell out of the pages and landed on the bed beside me. I blinked away some oncoming tears so my eyes could focus, and saw that it was an envelope. Oh, what was this, my copy of the certificate? How delightfully discreet.

I lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out its contents. My heart stopped. A small note lay on top of the first photo, and I held it up.

"Copies of each one, as promised. This first one is my favorite. Can't wait to see you. Love you so much. F."

The first one... it had always been my favorite too. One of the attendants at the resort we'd stayed in had snapped it one evening when Frasier had left his camera on a chair. It was at sunset. The two of us were curled up together in a beach chair, looking out over the water. I was sitting on his lap, resting my head on his shoulder, and he had his arms around me... lovingly, protectively. I remembered that evening so well. He'd asked me, "You know what I would change about this moment?" I said no, and he whispered, "Nothing."

The envelope fell from my hands onto the bed, and without thinking, I walked over to the door and made my way four doors down the hall. I held my hand up to knock, but stopped, too busy fighting another downpour of tears. I slumped down against the door and hugged my knees to my chest.

I might have stayed there all afternoon if Frasier hadn't chosen that moment to open the door, and naturally, I toppled over backwards.

"Lilith," he whispered in shock, falling to his knees and helping me to a seated position. We stayed there for a moment, sitting awkwardly in the doorway, his arms halfway around me, almost afraid to move.

"I couldn't..." I began, falling against him and letting the tears come as they may.

I held her tightly and stroked her hair as she cried. I didn't know what to feel. Happiness at seeing her again, but it was heavily diluted with anguish at seeing her so upset, as well as the now-familiar guilt at causing this. But she had come to me, instead of running home. She was here.

She stayed in my embrace after the tears dried, her head resting on my shoulder. I would have kissed her, except I had lost the privilege of doing so. "What are we going to do?" she whispered softly.

The "we" comforted me. It gave me hope that I hadn't ruined everything with my thoughtless actions. "I don't know," I admitted. "But we'll find a way."

She looked up at me. "How can you be so sure?"

I stared into her eyes. "Because I still have faith in us," I answered softly. "It won't be an easy road, but I know we'll make it as long as we're together."

"Oh, Frasier." She slumped against me again. "I wasn't really going to leave. I was just angry. And hurt."

"You had every right to be," I said quietly, kissing her forehead. She didn't pull back, which I found encouraging. "And I want you to know that I feel horrible about lying to you."

Lilith sat up and faced me. "I'm not going to say it's all right, because it's not," she began. "No one has ever hurt me as much as you did today."

My heart sank. She was leaving after all. I nodded and stared down at my shoes, unable to look at her.

"But..."

That word lit a small flicker of hope, and I found the courage to look at her face again, both anticipating and dreading what I would find.

"But I've never loved anyone as much as I've loved you, and I believe that anything we might have is worth saving," she finished. She took my hand. "We'll make it through this."

"Oh, Lilith..." I kissed her, unable to stop myself. She froze for a moment, and I was afraid I had moved too fast. Then her arms were around my neck, and she was kissing me back.

We somehow made it onto the bed, still making out like teenagers. Then Lilith began to unbutton my shirt, and this time I was the one to pull back.

"Not yet," I whispered. "I don't want to ruin things."

She sighed. "It'll be fine. I know what I want, and I want this."

As much as I hated to do so, I took her wandering hands and held them in my own, as she looked up at me in confusion. I couldn't do this do her. Not again.

"Please," she said, her eyes filling with tears again. "Just forget everything. We can have this moment."

"No, we can't," I said firmly. "We can't seize moments like that anymore, Lilith..." I stopped, attempting frantically to say this the right way... it wasn't until after I said it that I realized there wasn't a right way. "I don't want you to-" I choked up, unable and unwilling to finish.

She didn't move. "To what?"

I found my strength again... "I mean, just look what almost happened in-" ...but not for long.

Her look of bewilderment and frustration quickly turned to one of shock. "Frasier..." she breathed in disbelief.

"Honey, I just..." My voice faltered. "I just don't want anything to happen to you-"

"How dare you bring up Chicago?" she whispered, pulling away from me and scrambling over to the far end of the bed, as though literally afraid of my words. "That was in the past. I told you I would never again... I don't even know why I told you about the letter at all."

It pained me for her to say she wished she hadn't told me something. I wanted nothing more than to be the person she confided in about everything. "Because you trusted me," I told her.

"Which was obviously a mistake!" she declared, marching across the room and planting herself firmly in front of a wall. "Why should I trust you? You obviously don't trust me."

"You're mistaking a lack of trust for concern, Lilith," I whispered. "Why shouldn't I be worried about you? I love you... for God's sake," I half-chuckled, not even believing the outrageousness of the situation in front of us, "you're my wife."

She turned from the wall, her face a picture of astonishment, and I knew I'd said the wrong thing. "So that's it," she whispered. "You're doing this out of obligation because we're married now."

"Oh, God, no! Why would you-"

"Well, that's all right," she went on quickly. "We won't be for long."

It took me a minute to find my voice again, though all that came out was, "Lilith..."

I envied her courage to look me in the eye... it was something I couldn't initiate. "I think it's for the best, don't you?"

She glared at me defiantly for a moment before her resolve left her and she slumped down into a nearby chair. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean it."

"And I'm sorry too," I said quietly. "I just worry about you, that's all. I always have."

"Frasier, I'm fine," she insisted. "I do know how to take care of myself."

"I know you do," I told her. "It's just...well, I miss taking care of you."

She gave me a small smile. "That's very sweet, Frasier."

I sighed. "Well, since you brought it up, we do have to decide what we're going to do about this little fiasco."

Lilith hugged her knees to her chest. "I suppose you're right," she agreed. "Better sooner than later."

"Right." We both sat in silence for a moment. "So what do we do?" I finally asked. "Get another divorce?"

Lilith looked thoughtful. "Either that, or an annulment."

I laughed. "Oh, I don't think we can get one of those."

"We've only been married for two days," she argued. "And we were both, well, a little too intoxicated to make rational decisions."

I winced, trying not to show how hurt I was by her evaluation of our marriage as the result of too many tequila shots. "Right."

She must have read my mind, because she came back over and sat by me. "I didn't mean it that way," she said softly. "It's just, well, this might be too much for us right now."

I sighed. "You're right. An annulment it is." I knew I didn't sound too enthusiastic, but Lilith didn't comment on it. "I suppose we should go ahead and get it over with."

"Yes," she agreed...reluctantly? I couldn't tell for sure. "We'll go down to the courthouse first thing tomorrow."

"All right," I said softly. She sighed and curled up next to me. "Could I ask you something?"

She turned to face me. "Of course."

"Would my wife let me take her out tonight?" It was the first time I'd said the words out loud, and I was surprised at how easily they rolled off my tongue.

Lilith smiled and kissed me. "I'd love to...husband."

I tried to smile, but I felt like crying instead.

She put a hand up to my cheek. "You okay?" I nodded absent-mindedly, unable to think clearly about... well, anything at the moment. Her lips slowly formed a smile. "Where are you taking me?" she asked, snuggling up against me with her head under my chin.

"You'll see." In all honesty, I had no idea where to take her. No place in the world could do her justice. Someday I wanted to take her back to Paris, though. But this was LA; I was sure I could come up with something.

Lilith rose leisurely from the bed, straightening her clothes and turning back to me. "We should probably have some time to ourselves," she said quietly. "I have some shopping to do, anyhow," she added, sending an alluring glance my way.

My hand reached for hers as I pulled her back to the bed with me, and she was hardly one to protest. "Pick you up at eight?"

She smiled and squeezed my hand. "I'll be waiting." As she sat up, she leaned forward and whispered into my ear, "Thank you for the pictures." I wanted to say something, but I only smiled. On that note, she touched my cheek lightly, rose from the bed, and quietly left the room.

Upon reaching my room, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. Everything was a mix of rapture and despair, and all at the same time. Everything was as it should be... Frasier and I were together again, in the most official sense. He was taking me out for a night on the town. I was even about to go out and buy a new dress for the occasion.

And tomorrow, we would deliberately destroy our marriage.

I felt I was doing this just for him... I knew he couldn't stay married to me. He had a life of his own. This was far too much to deal with, and I still felt a twinge of guilt for bringing this upon us both, despite the fact that I'd been moderately inebriated. I knew it was preposterous, but I was almost getting used to the idea of being married to him again. It hadn't changed our relationship, except to bring us closer in the end.

But, as I had done so many times in the past-the most recent, of course, being Chicago-I put all thoughts of tomorrow out of my head and focused on tonight. It was this very procedure that would leave us both devastated in the morning, but I reasoned that there was no sense in having a miserable evening-I knew the morning would come whether we wanted it to or not. Tomorrow, the sun would rise.

By the time eight o'clock rolled around... well, appeared out of nowhere, really... I was hardly as ready as I wanted to be. My hair was halfway fixed, but I was still in my dressing gown when the knock came on the door.

I opened the door, hairbrush in one hand, nylons in the other. "Frasier." He looked at me for several seconds, took both from my hands, set them on the dresser, and kissed me as though it had been months since we'd seen each other, as opposed to mere hours. Not that I was complaining.

"You impulsive man," I smiled. "I'm not even ready yet."

"Don't change a thing," he implored, stroking my hair. "I don't think I've ever seen you look as beautiful as you do right now."

I felt myself blush, taking his hands from around my waist and pinning them against his side with a smile. "Wait here," I whispered, slipping back into the bathroom.

Emerging a few minutes later, I found Frasier standing by the bed, facing away from me, glancing through my copies of the photos he'd given me. Too engrossed in our mutual favorite, he didn't even hear me come out. I tiptoed over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist.

Almost immediately he turned around to face me, poised to comment on my unexpected entrance. But all he could do was stare. He took my hands and stepped back. "Oh, baby."

* * *

"That good?" She grinned. "That saleswoman was right. I wasn't sure if green was my color, but she assured me this dress would drive any man crazy."

"She was right," I agreed, still mesmerized. "Yowza."

Lilith blushed and turned around to model the dress for me. It was a long, sleeveless number, in a dark forest green, and it matched perfectly with her beautiful brown eyes. The front part of her hair was done up in a French braid, and the back was loose, falling to her shoulders in long, dark curls. She looked beautiful. She looked like an angel. And I was the lucky one who was taking her out tonight.

I offered my arm. "Shall we?"

She smiled. "We shall."

And we were off to paint the town.

I had rented a limo for the evening, and it was waiting outside the hotel for us. Lilith looked shocked, and then kissed me. "Frasier, you shouldn't have," she scolded. "We could have just taken a cab."

"You're worth it," I insisted. "Nothing but the finest for my...for you," I corrected. The words "my wife" had been on the tip of my tongue, but I knew it would only cast an uncomfortable air over the moment. I didn't want anything spoiling this night.

She took my hand and we climbed into the limo, settling down on the leather seats. I stretched out on the seat, with my feet up by the door, and my head in a very comfortable resting place in Lilith's lap.

She laughed and began playing with my hair. "Comfortable?" she grinned at me.

"Very," I agreed, kicking off my shoes. "There, that's more like it."

"So are you going to tell me where we're going tonight?" She began massaging my left arm.

I smiled slyly. "Not a chance. But I'll tell you one thing, I'll have the most beautiful wife there." She was silent, and I regretted saying it aloud. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No. It's true. I'm your wife. You're my husband. There's no reason why we shouldn't use those terms."

I sat up. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Of course I am," she said quickly. She turned her face away, and I got the feeling she was keeping something from me.

I leaned over, resting my head against her shoulder, and she gently stoked my head. "Promise me you're being honest," I whispered, echoing her own words from that very morning. I looked up expectantly, hoping for the same affirmative response I had given her that morning... despite the fact that I'd been lying. "Lilith?"

"Oh, Frasier, look." She quickly attempted to divert my attention to the mini-bar in front of us.

There was nothing I could do but let the matter drop. All I wanted tonight was for her to be happy. "May I offer you some champagne?" I asked, selecting two glasses.

"I'd love some," she smiled.

"Who knows," I mused quietly. "If we drink enough, maybe when we wake up tomorrow we'll have a couple of kids."

I couldn't believe I just said that.

The expression on her face was far more than enough to tell me I'd said something that shouldn't have even been thought. She stared blankly for a few seconds, opened her mouth to respond, once, twice, and then turned away, redirecting her blank gaze to the front.

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't know what I... I didn't mean-I can't believe I just-" My voice failed me suddenly, not surprisingly, and I fell silent.

"It's okay," she answered quickly, puzzling me with her desire to let the matter drop so quickly. I felt her hand cover mine, and we rode in silence for the remainder of the ride.

It was barely fifteen minutes later that we arrived. I hoped desperately that this would make up for the events of the last two days, not to mention what I had just thoughtlessly verbalized only a few moments before. The limousine stopped, and I went around to Lilith's side to open the door for her. As she stepped out, I let a sigh of relief escape as I watched her take in the entire scene, breathlessly.

Earlier that afternoon, I had done a bit of research and phoned the most prestigious restaurant in the entire area. I was fortunate enough that they did provide catering services, and without a second thought, I forked out their outrageous cost for the arrangement-a candlelit table for two, atop one of California's abundant and more secluded hills, overlooking the city.

"Frasier..." she gasped.

I noted something to the driver about when to return, and he took off, leaving us to ourselves. I put my arm around her. "You like it?"

Lilith let out a sigh and pulled me closer to her. "It's perfect," she whispered, punctuating it with a kiss that made me wish we were right back in the convenience of our hotel room.

After a long time, I broke away reluctantly. "We don't want the food to get cold," I said with an apologetic grin.

She smiled. "You're right."

She let me pull out a chair for her, and we sat down to dinner. The food was exquisite, much to my relief, considering the price I'd paid. But it was worth it to see the expression on Lilith's face. She had looked like she was in paradise the entire evening. I hadn't realized how much I had missed seeing her smile.

It was hard to believe that in twelve hours, this would all be over. Our marriage, and the easy, comfortable conversation that we had traded over dinner. Even though I knew it wouldn't be the end, I was afraid that once we ended our marriage for the second time, things between us would never be  
the same.

"Frasier, this is divine!" she explained between mouthfuls of prime rib. "You shouldn't have spent so much on me."

"Nonsense," I scolded. "The only thing better than a gourmet meal is someone to share it with."

"And the view is beautiful," she continued. "I couldn't have asked for a lovelier surprise."

I pushed aside my plate and stood up, making my way over to her chair, where I extended my hand. "Would you care to dance?"

She looked confused. "But there's no music. Unless you planned on dancing to crickets chirping."

"I've got that taken care of," I assured her. "Shall we?" She stood up and put her arm around my waist, still looking confused. "And you can tell everybody this is your song," I sang softly. "It may be quite simple, but now that it's done, I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is when you're in the world."

Tears began spilling down her cheeks, and she wrapped her arms around me. I sang her the entire song, and when I was done, I began another.

"Anywhere you go, let me go too," I finished softly. "That's all I ask of you."

She put her arm around my waist. "I like this kind of dancing best of all," she whispered.

A rocket sailed up into the sky and exploded in a beautiful series of red. "That's right," Lilith said softly. "I'd forgotten it was the fourth of July."

I took her hand and led her to where a blanket was spread out on the ground-something else I had requested. "We have the best view in LA," I told her. "I requested it just for you."

She sat down and curled up next to me, and we watched the fireworks together in each other's arms.

It was moments like these that I almost wished could last forever... I say almost, because in the midst of such intimate bliss was always the thought of how imminent the end was. It was the oddest of feelings, because it's not as though one of us were simply going out of town for a few weeks, and once returned would never leave again.

I remembered so clearly how I'd felt the last time we'd ended our marriage. I remember the night before our final appearance in court, and the anxiety that plagued me all night long. At least a dozen times, I'd reached over my pillow, grabbed the phone, and dialed the first few digits of her number before slamming the receiver down in hostility, towards the both of us. I'd been so angry with her, but more angry with myself for still loving her. It had been unquestionably one of the worst nights of my life.

The limousine eased down a quiet side road some blocks from our hotel, and, breaking the silence that had enveloped our ride home, Lilith rested her hand on my arm. "Let's walk from here," she said softly.

I peeled my gaze away from the window and turned to her. "Why?"

She gave a small smile. "Just because."

Instructing the driver to stop, I took her hand and helped her out. We must have been quite a sight, strolling down a quiet Los Angeles street (does such a thing even exist?) at nearly midnight, dressed in elegant evening attire. But as I looked over and saw her smiling at me, I knew there was no way I'd have rather ended the evening.

"Thank you," she whispered, and for a moment we were both silent. "I only wish there was some way to make this night last longer," she finally admitted.

"I'll try," I promised, and found the opportunity almost immediately, eyeing a children's playground not half a block away. I took her hand and picked up my pace. "Come on."

Although she followed without question, she shot me a bewildered look. "This is your idea of making the evening last longer?" she queried as I hurried us both down the block.

"No, *this* is," I explained, leading her over to a tire swing and plopping down on it.

With her hands on her hips, she stared at me, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. After observing my silliness for a few moments, she finally sat down on my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. "You're nuts, Frasier."

"And you love me all the more for it," I declared, spinning us around in a circle.

"I do."

The phrase caused my heart to leap, and I flashed back to two nights before. We may have been smashed, but I would never forget the look in her eyes when she said that to me in front of the minister. She meant it... not because she was drunk and couldn't reason properly. But simply because she meant it. It wasn't hard to believe that she wanted to love and cherish me for the rest of her days. I wanted nothing more than to do the same for her... but I knew she wanted the annulment, and wanted it soon. And I would do anything for her, if it would make her happy. Even this.

I suspected she was having similar thoughts about the other night as she stopped laughing and stared at me. "I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, Frasier."

Pulling her close to me, I held her tightly as though nothing in the world could make me let her go. I didn't want anyone or anything ever to take her away from me. Not even an...

In less than twelve hours, we would no longer be married.

"A penny for your thoughts," Lilith whispered, breaking my internal soliloquy.

"What?"

"Penny for your thoughts," she repeated. "Come on, tell me."

"All right." I searched desperately for an answer. "I was thinking about tires."

"Tires?" she echoed. "I don't know whether to laugh or be insulted."

I grinned. "What do you expect for a penny?"

"Oh, come on," she begged, tugging on my shirt sleeve. "Tell me."

"Do you want to try the slide?" I asked quickly, standing up.

Lilith looked doubtful. "The slide? In this dress?"

"I'll go if you will," I challenged. If I knew Lilith, she couldn't resist a dare.

She raised an eyebrow. "You're on."

I took her hand and we ran to the slide, giggling like teenagers. Lilith made me go first, and laughed at me as I ripped my pant leg on the too-small slide. I stuck my tongue out at her. "Here I just ruined a two thousand dollar tuxedo, and all you can do is laugh."

Lilith made no effort to stop laughing. "It wasn't my idea."

She was right, but it didn't stop me from sulking. "That doesn't fix my pants."

"Then maybe," she whispered, her face inches from mine, "you should take them off and let me fix it."

I grabbed her hand, and we were back at the hotel in less than five minutes.

* * *

Frasier and I barely made it back to our room before we grabbed each other and fell onto the bed. We kissed for awhile, but instead of going further, we broke apart and stared at each other, trying to understand what the other one was saying without words.

"I'm sorry," I finally whispered. "I don't think this is a good idea."

Frasier put a hand behind my head. "What do you mean?" he asked softly.

"About tonight," I told him, knowing that I wasn't making any sense. "I want to, but I can't...I don't know if I could bear it in the morning."

"Are you sure?" Frasier's voice was comforting, and I looked away. I couldn't lose my resolve.

I nodded slowly. "I'm sure."

"All right," Frasier said softly. "Is it all right if I hold you?"

I nodded. He put his arms around me, and we fell asleep together on the bed.

I woke up at least a dozen times throughout the next couple of hours. At one point I began crying softly, silently. I don't think he knew. I hardly even knew myself until I felt the tears rolling down my face. Eventually I was able to drift off again, and when I woke up... I was alone.

It was too early, I thought to myself, half-asleep. He was still supposed to be here. Our marriage hadn't ended *yet*. I wasn't ready for him to leave my side. Then again... would I ever be?

Upon finding my robe, I crept down the hall to his room and knocked on the door. Nothing. At the risk of facing a reenactment of the night before, I took the elevator downstairs and peeked into the piano lounge. Empty. All at once my heart was beating faster and I began to panic. Had he left? Yes... he'd left. He'd gone back to Seattle. He couldn't face one more day of this... this. Everything. Me, the situation, tomorrow... of course, my worst fear was that he'd remembered what I'd almost done in Chicago and thought he might try it for himself...

"Ma'am?" A voice called softly from the front desk. I spun around. "He went out to the gardens."

I stared a moment, then nodded. "Thank you." I proceeded towards the door before turning around one more time, prepared to ask the concierge how he could have known why I was there. But before I could open my mouth to say anything, I turned to see him smiling at me. He quickly looked away and pretended to be typing something.

At that moment I knew our indiscretion in the piano lounge hadn't been as clandestine as I had hoped.

I took a few steps towards him innocently. "What?"

He broke into a silly grin again, but didn't look up. "Nothing, ma'am."

I stood there for a moment, staring at him until he finally looked up, at which point I shot him an alluring smile, turned on my heel, and proceeded to the gardens.

It was drizzling once I found myself outside, slowly making my way around the trees and park benches... and there he was. In a far corner, behind the birdbath and the willow tree and the pond... occupying one lone bench by a cluster of bushes, with his head buried in his hands. Through the rain, he didn't even hear me approach, and it wasn't until I sat down beside him that he looked up. His face was wet with raindrops, or tears... it was impossible to tell which. He put a hand up to my cheek, and I fell into his embrace.

"Don't do that again," I whispered. "Please don't leave me like that."

His arms tightened around me. "Oh, angel. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry too," I said softly, pulling away and looking into his eyes. "For earlier. I didn't... I mean, I wanted to, I just..."

He touched his finger to my lips. "Sweetheart... It's okay. I promise."

I nodded, leaning against him as he pulled his jacket around both of us. "This is certainly different," I noted, almost to myself.

"What is?"

"I mean... from last time." I remembered the time nearly ten years ago, the night before our divorce. How miserable I'd been, and how much I'd wished he would call me to say he still loved me. "You know," I reflected, "I never thought if I got divorced again... it would be from you."

He looked down, and I wished I'd never even opened my mouth. "Once was more than enough," he whispered.

"I want this time to be different," I said, staring at him resolutely.

His face was damp again, but this time I knew it was from tears. "Oh, my love... it is different."

I shook my head. "I'm still wishing I could spend one last night with you," I whispered. "Just like last time."

He lifted his head and stared at me. "But you-"

That was as far as he got before I kissed him.

* * *

I awoke early the next morning, feeling uncomfortably cold and damp. Lilith was curled up on the bed next to me, her wet hair spread out on the pillow. I pulled the blanket over us, trying to remember the previous night's events.

The rain. Our conversation. The grass stains on my jacket. Trying to sneak inconspicuously back into the hotel. The concierge winking at Lilith. (I had no idea why.) Falling asleep together on the bed.

Last night, with the thunder booming across the sky, and the rain falling down around us, had seemed to last forever. But the sun had come up, and with it, the day I had been dreading. The day our marriage would be dissolved, once again.

Lilith stirred and opened her eyes. "What time is it?" she mumbled sleepily.

I squinted at the alarm clock. "Six forty-five."

The courthouse didn't open until nine. We had learned that when I very reluctantly called the day before. Lilith appeared to be thinking along the same lines, because she made no effort to get up.

"It's still early," she whispered, putting her arms around me. "Why don't we just lie here for awhile?"

"I have a better idea," I said, sitting up and pulling her up with me. "Why don't we go out for breakfast?"

Lilith bit her lip nervously. "Frasier..."

"If you don't want to, just say so," I said quickly. "We can always order in."

She shook her head. "No, breakfast would be great. I just...wanted to talk to you about something."

She looked positively terrified. "It's okay, honey," I said softly, trying to reassure her. "You can tell me."

"Never mind. It's not important." She got up and began gathering her clothes from her suitcase. "I'm going to take a shower."

I went over to her and put my hands on her shoulders. "Lilith."

"Oh, Frasier," she sighed. "It's nothing. A crazy idea I had, that's all."

"Lilith, come here." I took her hand, and she obediently followed me over to the bed and sat down. "It's pretty obvious that what you want to talk to me about isn't 'nothing'."

"All right." She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

My own thoughts were racing a mile a minute. Perhaps she didn't want this annulment after all. Perhaps she wanted to work things out. We could keep our marriage. We could be a family again. We could...

Lilith took a deep breath and looked at me. "Frasier, I want another child."

The words hit me like harder than anything she could have said. If she'd told me she was leaving to become a nun, I wouldn't have been so utterly speechless. I almost hoped she would take her traditional route, apologize for saying anything, and let the matter drop. But she only looked at me, hopefully, innocently. No matter what I said... I would either be lying or letting her down... or both.

Her tenacity gave way, and she looked down. "Just say something," she whispered. "Even if it's just to tell me I'm out of my mind."

I retraced the conversation, playing her words over and over again in my mind... Frasier, I want another child. What did she mean? What was she asking me? What did she want from me? No matter what it was, I wanted nothing more than to give it to her... but I froze.

"What?" I finally breathed, trying to find my verbal ability which seemed to have disappeared right along with my hearing ability, I was sure-she couldn't have said what I thought she said. "You-I'm sorry, you what?"

She sighed. "Frasier, I..."

"How in God's name do you expect me to react to that?" I demanded.

Her voice trembled. "Frasier, don't blow up at me, I didn't mean-"

"How could you *not* mean it?" I began pacing the room furiously, growing even more outraged by the lack of space in which to do so. "What other possible way am I supposed to take that? Lilith, in two hours our marriage will be over, and you're talking about having another child!"

She stood up and took a step. "I don't know... why I brought it up now," she said as tears filled her eyes, "You don't have to say anything. I just... I had to tell you." The tears began to fall, and she turned away. "You're always telling me to be honest with you."

"Lilith, there's honesty and then there's insanity! You know we can't-you know it's just not-there's no way we can..."

I stopped wishing I could tell her how much I shared what she felt. How much I wanted another child... not just another child, but another child with *her*. Rather than be angry at her, I was more frustrated at myself for not being able to say so. But she was the only one in the room I could take it out on.

"I can't believe you told me that," I concluded.

She sniffled, trying not to lose control as I had, and looked me in the eyes. "You want me to apologize," she said calmly. "I can't. You're my husband-for two hours more, perhaps, but that doesn't make you any less so. You promised to love and honor me for the rest of your life, and I don't care if you were sloshed. I know you meant it."

She put her hand up to her mouth, and we both know she'd said too much.

I looked at her and, for a moment, she didn't turn away. But when she did, I followed suit, and we stood there

"As did you," I finally whispered. At last, I began gathering my clothes and straightening my hair. "We're going to be late."

She nodded, took some clothes out of her suitcase, and disappeared into the bathroom. I spent the next five minutes changing into a clean suit and pondering whether my dry cleaner would be able to get the grass and mud stains out of my jacket. Probably not.

After fifteen minutes had passed, there was still no sign of Lilith. I knocked on the bathroom door. "Lilith?" I called. "Are you in there?" Stupid question. There was no other way out, of course she had to be in there.

No response. I waited a few moments, then tried again. "Lilith, honey, are you all right?" I asked. Still nothing.

A cold fear began in my stomach and quickly grew. What if she'd...

I charged into the door. My shoulder exploded in pain, but that wasn't important. The door burst open, and I stumbled into the bathroom to see Lilith slumped against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest and crying uncontrollably.

She looked up at me. "The door was unlocked," she sniffled. "You didn't have to do that."

I sat down beside her and took her in my arms. "I don't care," I told her, kissing her forehead. "Are you all right?"

She tried to pull herself together, and I wished that I could tell her that she didn't have to be so brave all the time. That it was okay to let someone else be strong for her. "It's everything," she sobbed. "Frasier, I never thought my life was going to be like this."

I knew how she felt. Getting older, having your life turn out nothing like you imagined it to be. And the regrets. Dying dreams, spoiled chances, all the roads not taken. And now, being together again and seeing what might have been-the thought was enough to bring tears to my eyes as well.

When her tears had dried, Lilith pulled away, still sniffling. "Thank you," she whispered.

I took my handkerchief and wiped the tearstains off of her face. "That's my girl," I said quietly, trying to smile.

"I had the dream again last night," she told me softly. "I suppose that's what brought all this up."

I didn't know what to say, so I kissed her. She put her arms around my neck and responded with so much passion that I wanted to take her right there on the bathroom floor. Very romantic, Frasier.

Lilith pulled away. "We'd better not," she said softly.

I nodded. "No, probably not."

She gave me a weak smile. "Is that invitation to breakfast still good?"

"Of course." I stood up and then pulled her to her feet. "You ready?"

She nodded, and we set off in search of Eggs Florentine and Benedict.

It was still drizzling when the taxi dropped us off in front of the courthouse. Any casual onlookers would never have guessed we were about to end our marriage. I clutched Frasier's hand tightly the entire time... in fact, I don't think I'd let go of it since we left after breakfast. I held onto him as we walked up the steps to the building. My heart had stopped pounding, but now my thoughts were racing and my mouth was dry... I had no idea how I was going to get through this.

Without even thinking, I put a hand on his arm, and he stopped, turning around to face me. I looked up at him, knowing that this would be the last time we would ever look at each other this way again... as husband and wife.

I blinked back a tear and forced a smile. "Would you like to kiss the bride?"

He looked at me for a second, as though trying to take in everything at once... because after this he wouldn't be able to. But then he gathered me to him and kissed me, a kiss that reminded me so much of our very first kiss... so many years ago at Cheers, with everyone watching, before he carried me out to his car and took me home...

Everything from then on seemed a blur. All at once I found myself in a cold room with hard wooden chairs, sitting next to Frasier and filling out a form, and it broke my heart. Grounds for annulment... what grounds? I didn't want even want it.

Frasier filled out his form quickly and frantically, and sat fidgeting while I mulled through mine. I glanced over at him to ask a question about number seventeen, but his face made me stop. He was staring into the air in front of him, looking like a scared little boy, lost and alone. Suddenly he turned back to me, and upon seeing that my form was only half completed, he took the sheet of paper from me and began expertly filling in blanks.

"Get this over and done with," he mumbled to himself.

We must have waited a whole hour before they finally called us in. I was resting my head on Frasier's shoulder, trying to close my eyes and relax, but all I could do was stare blankly in front of me. Though nothing could have been worse than the moment we finally entered the room and sat down. Still terrified of everything in general, my hand remained clasped protectively around Frasier's. When we sat down in front of the judge, Frasier took my hand and placed it gently back in my lap, with only a subtle apologetic glance, barely concealed from the judge.

It wasn't easy remembering we were here to convince someone we didn't love each other.

The judge scrutinized our forms for a moment and looked up at us. "Dr. Frasier Crane and Dr. Lilith Sternin-Crane... you wish to obtain an annulment based on the grounds that you were inebriated at the time of the ceremony?"

I froze, but Frasier found his voice and nodded. "Yes, your honor."

"And you've been married how long?"

His voice lowered. "Um... two days."

He proceeded to make notes on the paper, not bothering to look up. "And the marriage has not been consummated?"

"Well..." I began.

"Ummm..." Frasier mumbled.

"Sort of," we admitted together.

The judge took off his glasses and began to clean them. "There is no sort of," he lectured us. "Either you did or you didn't. Which one is it?"

Once again, it was Frasier who stepped forward. "We did, your honor."

The judge put his glasses back on and looked at us carefully. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "Two days is a very short time to be married. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Frasier and I shared an uncomfortable glance. We both mumbled something that could have been either yes or no.

The judge looked at the papers again. Then he turned to me. "Dr. Sternin-Crane, would you mind waiting out in the hall for a moment while I speak with your husband?"

I hadn't been expecting this, but I nodded and followed the bailiff out of the courtroom. For the next ten minutes, I paced up and down the halls, staring down at the floor and memorizing the tile pattern. What was Frasier saying about me? That I had gotten senselessly drunk and dragged him to a wedding chapel? Something worse?

I looked up when Frasier opened the door and came out of the courtroom. "The judge wants to see you," he said quietly.

All right," I said quietly, and re-entered the courtroom.

The judge was waiting for me. "Dr. Sternin-Crane, it says here that you and Dr. Crane have a son together."

I nodded. "Frederick's fourteen."

"So I understand that you and Dr. Crane have previously been married?" the judge asked, peering over his glasses at me.

"Yes," I said nervously. "We divorced nine years ago."

"I'm curious, what made you get married again?" he asked. "Most exes I've known can't stand to be in the same room together, let alone go down the aisle again."

"Frasier's special," I heard myself say. "He's always been my best friend, even after things didn't work out romantically between us."

"You still love him, don't you?" It wasn't a question.

"Yes," I whispered. Then I came to my senses, and realized what I was saying, and who I was talking to. "But Frasier wants this annulment, and so do I."

"Are you sure?" The judge stared at me pointedly. "You don't sound too sure."

"I'm sure." I hoped I sounded more convincing than I felt. "Frasier and I don't want this to ruin the friendship we have."

The judge turned to the bailiff. "Could you ask Dr. Crane to return, please?"

The bailiff left, and returned a moment later, with Frasier following. Frasier joined me at the front of the room, and quickly squeezed my hand. I closed my eyes, determined to be strong.

The judge looked at the papers once more, then turned to us. "Dr. Crane, Dr. Sternin-Crane, I regret to inform you that upon the evidence I see here, you do not qualify for an annulment."

Frasier's jaw dropped. "What?"

"If you still want to end your marriage, I suggest a divorce," the judge continued. "Otherwise, marriage counseling may be helpful." He banged his mallet. "Case dismissed."


	4. Chapter 4

We didn't say a word to each other for the entire cab ride. I wanted to reach over and take his hand, but I couldn't. I had no idea what he was feeling... guilty relief, disappointment, elation... or if he was thoroughly confused, as I was.

I waited on the elevator, on the way up to our room... he remained silent. It was probable that he was expecting the same of me; for me to be the first to say something. My mind was finally quieted when he found my hand and took it in his, just before the elevator doors opened.

Our hands still clasped together, I turned right, and he went left, and, bound by the laws of physics and the unwillingness to let each other go, we stopped. Did he want me to come with him, or did he want to be alone?

"Maybe we should..." I began harmlessly.

He nodded and slowly released my hand from his grasp. "I guess we need some time alone," he agreed, hoping that was what I'd been implying.

I nodded, quickly disappearing into my own room to avoid the pain of watching him walk away... in whatever context, it was never something I wanted to face. In a flash of impulse, I was by the bedside in one swift movement, dialing the phone.

"Hello?" Frasier answered.

"It's me. I just wanted to tell you I love you," I said hurriedly.

"I love you too."

Knowing he couldn't say much more at the moment, I let him go. My jacket was heavy with rain, and I removed it, tossing it onto the floor before curling up among the disheveled sheets. We hadn't even thought to make the bed, and obviously housekeeping was doing their usual bang-up job.

I awoke what seemed like days later, but when I looked at the clock it was only quarter to five. Fifteen minutes wasn't much time to prepare for a lecture, but I had to be there. I had to take my mind off all of this. I suspected Frasier would sleep right through it, and I'd be able to concentrate on it alone.

This theory was dismissed the minute I entered the lecture hall and saw Frasier seated in the back, his book carefully positioned on the chair beside his. I slipped into the seat and handed him his book, whispering a quick "Thank you" before settling down. He shot me a comforting smile, and for the first time since that morning, I felt safe.

It wasn't long before I rested against his shoulder and began to feel myself drifting off again. He nudged me gently and handed me a pad of paper and pen. It read, "You want some ice cream later?"

I felt myself smile, and, not even bothering to sit up, I took the pen and wrote, "Out of a bowl this time?"

He playfully tapped me on the arm after reading it, and I struggled to suppress my giggles. "Any way you like it," he scribbled in response.

"Frasier!" I wrote back, returning his playful punch. A small chuckle escaped from his lips. Finally I grabbed the pad of paper and scrawled a quick "I love you" under our conversation. He held the pad up for a moment, placed it down on a chair beside him, and pulled me into his embrace. "Ditto," he whispered.

After that, I finally dozed off in his arms.

* * *

The lecture ended, and people began filing out of the room. I gently nudged Lilith, who was still asleep in my arms. She was reluctant to wake up, and I had to nudge her several times before she finally opened her eyes.

"Is it over already?" she mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes. "So tired..."

I stood up, and helped her to her feet. "Come on, I'm taking you back to your room," I told her. "You're going to bed early tonight."

"No." She shook her head emphatically. "I've slept enough for now. Besides"-she grinned at me-"You promised me ice cream."

"And so I did," I agreed. "As soon as I get my wallet from your room, we'll be off. Deal?"

She nodded, and we took the elevator back to the third floor. Once we entered the room, Lilith curled up on the bed, while I began the search for my wallet. It wasn't in my jacket pocket. Or on the dresser. Or in the bathroom.

"Oh, Frasier." I turned around to see Lilith, holding my wallet and smiling bewitchingly at me. "I believe you were looking for this?"

I held my hand out. "Give me the wallet, Lilith."

"What's it worth to you?" She shot me a seductive glance and I felt my jaw drop in spite of myself.

I took two steps toward the bed. "Give me the wallet."

Another seductive look. "Come and get it."

I could never resist a challenge. I pounced on her, and we rolled over and over on the bed together. After a couple of turns, I had her pinned underneath me. "Give up," I grinned. "You're mine."

In response, she reached behind her and grabbed a pillow, whacking me on the head with it. I was caught off guard, and stumbled backwards, allowing Lilith to escape and continue beating me with the pillow.

"Oh, now you're asking for it." I grabbed the other pillow and we began swinging them at each other. Lilith began to giggle. I was chuckling as well. The difference was that she could still swing her pillow while she was laughing. Eventually, she managed to bat mine out of my hands, and gave me a triumphant look.

I held up my hands in surrender. "You win! What do I do now?"

She picked up my pillow and tossed it to me. "Go put this pillow over on that chair and sit on it," she instructed me. "I'll be right back."

She disappeared in the bathroom, and I sat down in the chair to wait for her. The phone began to ring. Fantastic. Probably the front desk, wanting us to keep down the noise. I picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

Silence on the other end of the line. "Hello?" I repeated. "Who is this?"

Still nothing. I was about to hang up when the person on the other end spoke. "Dad?"

After panicking for a total of perhaps two seconds, I fumbled for any words that might make sense. "Frederick?!" I finally announced, loudly to the room in general but with the subtle hope that it would reach across the room and into the bathroom.

I was in luck. The bathroom door flung open as Lilith rushed out and stood in front of me, not daring to grab the receiver, but unable to move. I was rendered somewhat motionless myself, as she stood there wrapped in nothing but a towel.

"What are you doing there?" Frederick asked quietly. "Where's Mom?"

I found my voice, somewhere, and stopped staring. "She's-she's right here," I answered, relieved that I could give at least one truth rather than having to devise an explanation for my presence. "It's a, well, it's a funny story, really... we were both at the conference and... our rooms happened to be right down the same hall, and..."

Lilith rolled her eyes at me and fell back onto the bed. I shrugged helplessly.

"Did I call the wrong room?" Frederick asked. "I thought Mom was in-"

"Oh, no," I assured him. "I was just... we were going out for dinner. Dessert. Ice cream, actually, I really wish you could be here, you know, Los Angeles is, well... the land of possibilities, shall we say..." I continued, babbling senselessly, shooting a meaningful glance towards Lilith. On this last note, her jaw dropped and she leapt off the bed, reaching over and seizing the phone before I could say another word and put us in an even more precarious position.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before stepping into a more carefree persona. "Frederick, sweetheart, I'm so glad you called. Is everything all right?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes as Lilith pointedly demonstrated what would have been the correct manner to handle the situation. Well, forgive me for being thoroughly startled, but this wasn't exactly something I'd been expecting.

"Yes, it's quite a coincidence," she agreed, losing some of her self-confidence. "Did you and Joe have a good time at the-" She stopped, listened for a moment, and began fidgeting with a thread on her towel. "Don't be ridiculous, I've hardly seen him," she said quietly. For a moment there was silence, until she burst out laughing. "Frederick! You're crazy, you know that?"

I snatched the phone back with one hand while attempting to hold her hands away with the other. She finally broke away, but I escaped... though not for long, as she proceeded to retaliate with pillows. "Frederick," I began, dodging the pillows (at this point she had also progressed to blankets), "I've been meaning to ask you, how's that science project of yours coming along? Were those books helpful?"

My son laughed to himself at my attempt to make idle conversation. "Yeah, Dad, they were great."

I threw a blanket off my head, gathered the remaining pillows in a pile, and sat on them for safekeeping. "Oh, good, good," I replied. "I really wish I could be there for the science fair."

"Dad, what are you really doing there?" he queried.

My face must have radiated a look of warning, because Lilith grew still and stared at me. "What-what do you mean? I'm here for the conference."

"I'm fourteen," he informed me. "I'm not stupid." There was a long pause in which I began to construct a proper way to assure him I thought nothing of the sort. But I never got the chance to articulate these thoughts. "Are you and Mom getting back together?"

I threw a panicked glance at Lilith, even though she couldn't possibly have heard. I frantically tried to come up with an explanation, and finally decided to tell the truth. "I don't know," I confessed. "Things are a little uncertain right now."

Frederick was silent for a moment. "I really miss you, Dad."

I choked back my tears. "I miss you too, son.

I returned to my shower in order to give Frasier and Frederick some privacy while they talked. When I came back fifteen minutes later, they were still talking, gleefully listing all the scientific inaccuracies in "Armageddon."

"And the ending...how could it be daylight all around the world?" Frasier questioned. "How much did they pay those writers?"

I tapped him on the shoulder. "Can I talk to our son for a moment?"

"Of course." Frasier handed me the receiver and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Mom, what's going on?" my son asked.

"He's not staying in my room," I said quickly. "He has his own room down the hall." Perfectly true, except that we only used one at any time. "He's just here because we were going to go get ice cream."

Frederick sighed. "Mom, I'm not a little kid anymore."

"You're not," I agreed, desperate for another topic. "I can't believe how fast you're growing up."

"Mom," my son complained. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." This was an admission both to Frederick, and to myself. "But no matter what happens, we both love you very much."

"I really miss Dad," Frederick whispered.

"I know," I said softly. "He misses you too." Frederick yawned, and I became aware of the time in Boston. "Go get some sleep, all right?"

"Aw, Mom," he complained.

"You need your sleep," I insisted. "Now go to bed, and I'll see you on Saturday, all right?"

"All right," my son agreed reluctantly, yawning again. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too." I replaced the receiver and sat on the bed, thinking. I had to remember that anything that happened between Frasier and me didn't simply stay between us. We had a son together, and despite our efforts otherwise, anything we did would ultimately effect him as well.

Frasier came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. "Done talking with Frederick?"

I nodded. "He went to bed."

"I see." Frasier looked like he wanted to say something else, but changed his mind. "You still want to go for ice cream?"

"Of course," I answered. "Sure."

Frasier slowly walked over to me and put his hands on my shoulders. "You okay?" I nodded, but stared straight ahead, motionless on the bed. He sat down and wrapped his arms around me, but I remained listless. "Are you sure?" he persisted.

Realizing how oddly I must have been behaving, I suddenly stood up and grabbed my purse. "I'm fine. Let's go."

We discovered a Dairy Queen along the road, and I ordered a banana split for us both while Lilith went to use their restroom, not forgetting to make a quip about fast food places and their unsanitary conditions. ("If the bathroom's bad, just think of what the kitchen must be like," I laughed.)

"That will be two seventy-nine," the cashier informed me.

"Oh, right." I reached into my pocket for my wallet, and rolled my eyes upon remembering that Lilith had never actually given it back to me. I was in luck, however, for she had left her purse on the counter for me to watch, explaining that there was nowhere in their bathroom she would feel comfortable setting it down. I reached in, found my wallet, and proceeded to unbury it from the rest of the junk she kept in there... when my eyes fell on an object of more interest than I would have anticipated.

It was a home pregnancy test.

It was unopened.

It was in her purse. It was hers. She bought this. It hadn't just leapt into her bag while she was buying toothpaste, or... or...

It was at this moment I realized she was standing right beside me.

Her eyes darted from mine back to the object in my hands. She snatched it away, stuffed it back in the purse along with my wallet, and ran out.

"Lilith," I called. "Please, don't run away," I pleaded, catching up with her. "Just let me stay with you. Please."

Her eyes, filled with tears, remained focused in front of her. "Frasier, please, I..." She didn't get any farther than this before stopping in her tracks and bursting into tears.

I held her close to me, dying to ask, but unable to speak. One night in Chicago... that's all it took. Our lives could be changed forever. I couldn't stay silent any longer. I had to know. My arms tightened around her and I whispered, "Are you?"

"I don't know!" she sobbed, breaking away and continuing up the street. "Why would I buy that if I already knew?!"

"Okay," I said softly, putting my arm around her. She leaned heavily on me, still crying, and I led her back to the hotel room without another word.

She stood in the middle of the room, clutching her purse protectively as though someone was going to snatch it away. I wasn't much better; I closed the door behind us and stood there with the key in my hand, not knowing what to say, or if I should say anything at all.

I felt I could trust her instincts even more than a test, and the expression on her face revealed that she did as well. But all I found myself saying was, "Do you want me to leave?"

She looked at me as if it were the most ridiculous question in the world. "No." After another awkward nothingness, she walked over and put her arms around me. "I love you," she whispered, as though begging me not to forget that, no matter what happened.

"I love you too," I told her, returning her embrace, "so very much."

Looking positively terrified, she pulled away and looked at me. "Okay."

I nodded, and kissed her softly. "Okay," I echoed.

The bathroom door closed behind her and I froze. I couldn't even direct myself over to a chair, I just stood there for fifteen minutes, taking in what had been arguably the most intense four days of my life. All of a sudden I found myself married... and it was just beginning to sink in. It should have frightened me, but it didn't. This was Lilith. There was no one else in the world I would rather be married to... and *that* was the realization made me finally collapse on the bed.

In only moments, I would know if I was going to be a father again. I was scared. I wouldn't even know where to begin handling the situation. But what shocked me most was realizing how much I wanted this. The very thought of having another child with her was enough to fill me with more joy than I'd ever known. This could be the most glorious experience of our lives.

The bathroom door opened.

I stared at the frail, frightened figure standing in the doorway. She stared back. I knew what the answer was.

Finally, she shook her head slowly, and I was by her side, taking her in my arms as we both slumped down against the wall and cried.

* * *

After what seemed like forever, our tears dried and we were left sitting on the floor together, still in each others arms. My reaction had surprised me. Ever since Chicago, the possibility had been lurking in the back of my mind. For the last month, I had been afraid of what would happen if I was pregnant. Of Frasier's reaction. Of starting over as a parent, after all these years. All I could think of was how afraid I was of being pregnant again. I hadn't even considered how hard it would be if I wasn't.

But as the days and weeks ticked along, I had begun to first accept the possibility, and then hope for it. Having another child now would make up for the lost opportunities during Frasier's and my marriage. Our first marriage, that is.

After spending two days with Frasier, and daring to hope that things might yet work out between us, I found the courage to buy the pregnancy test. Only to find that I had been wrong after all, and wasn't pregnant. I wasn't going to lie about this. I was disappointed. No. Disappointed wasn't the word for it. I was devastated.

"Are you all right?" Frasier finally whispered, clutching me tightly to him.

I shook my head. "No. But I will be."

"I was thinking..." He laced his fingers with mine and gripped my hand tightly. "Maybe we should try for another child."

I rubbed the back of his hand with my thumb. "That's not what you said yesterday," I said quietly.

"You caught me by surprise, that's all," Frasier replied gently. "I didn't have time to fully consider the idea. But I did a lot of thinking, while you were taking the test, and I came to realize that there's nothing I'd rather do than have another child with you."

"Frasier, you don't know what you're saying," I said softly. "You're disappointed and upset right now. I am too. And there's nothing wrong with that, but I think we should both be in a clearer state of mind before making a big decision like this."

He was silent for a moment, holding me close to him and playing with my hair. "You're right," he said finally. "You always are. The question is, what do we do now?"

I had my answer prepared. "We wait, that's what. Let's both take some time to think about this. And if tomorrow night we still want to do this, then let's go for it."

He kissed me. "I love you so very much."

"And I love you too." I curled up against him, and worn out by crying, fell asleep.

The next morning I awoke to find us both still on the floor. At some point during the night, Frasier had grabbed a pillow from somewhere, which we were now sharing, and a blanket was draped loosely across us. I was nestled against him, my head on his shoulder, his fingers still entwined in mine. The glaringly red numbers on the clock read eight forty-five... the best night's sleep we'd had all week.

I closed my eyes again, but was soon brought back to consciousness as Frasier planted a soft kiss on my mouth. After a moment of initial surprise, I put my arms around his neck and responded with more passion than would be expected at this hour of the morning.

After an extensive period, I pulled away and smiled.

"You really must start doing that every morning," he said breathlessly.

I stretched out languidly beside him. "Lectures start in an hour," I mused.

"Mm-hmm," he agreed, stroking my shoulder. "Wanna skip 'em?"

"Love to," I smiled, sitting up.

He rested his head in my lap and yawned. "What shall we do today?"

"This is Los Angeles, darling," I informed him, tossing the blanket across the room. "The 'land of possibilities'," I added, rolling my eyes as I remembered what he'd said to Frederick. "I'm sure we'll be able to think of something..." I shot him a meaningful glance. "If we ever leave our room, that is."

He raised an eyebrow deviously, breaking into a mischievous grin. All at once he grabbed me and pulled me down beside him, showering me with kisses. "I love you, my little shortbread cookie," he finally declared. "You know that, don't you?"

I stroked his cheek. "I do know that, jelly-bear."

"I'm taking you to Magic Mountain," he decided.

"Why must you euphemize?" I asked, fiddling with a button in his shirt.

He rolled his eyes. "It's an amusement park, sweetheart."

I blushed uncontrollably. "I knew that."

"You did not!"

"Oh, shut up!" I grabbed our communal pillow and proceeded to clobber him to death with it, while he sat there taking it like man and making fun of me like a child. I couldn't help but love him more than I ever had in my life.

The non-euphemized Magic Mountain was quite a spectacle. I hadn't been to a place like this since I was a little girl. I remember my father took me once when I was four... it was one of the happiest days of my life. A few weeks later he left for two years. Suddenly everything felt a little too familiar.

I clung to Frasier's arm as he dragged me on ride after ride, making sure we didn't miss a single one. He became increasingly more daring, and, as reluctant as I was, he finally insisted we try Shock Wave. Even the name doesn't do it justice. But when it was over, I discovered that I had become an official roller coaster junkie.

"Oh, please, Frasier, just one more time!" I pleaded, dragging him up to the end of the line. "We can sit in the back this time."

"The back is the worst part!" he whined. "You go, I'll sit here and watch you and try not to get sick."

I pouted, resting my head against his shoulder. "Come on, there's nothing to it," I insisted. "But I can't do it alone."

"Go," he told me, resetting the camera. "I'll take your picture when you're up on the loop."

"Frasier, you're such a baby." I kissed him on the cheek and marched up the stairs, finding a place in the line.

It was certainly a quieter ride this time around, without Frasier alternately screaming, praying, and calling for the attendant to stop the ride. I hopped down the steps when it was over, not the least bit shaken, and stifled giggles at the pitiful teenagers who emerged from the ride looking as though they'd just been to hell and back.

Frasier was sitting at a picnic bench with his camera, and smiled when he saw me. I was prepared to go give him a hug and try one last shot at getting him to come with me this time... when I stopped in my tracks.

There she was.

Sitting beside Frasier on the bench... playing with the camera's lens cap. She had my dark hair, and his blue eyes... it was like walking right into my dream.

I somehow found my legs again and walked over to them both, staring alternately at Frasier and the little girl sitting beside him.

Frasier took my hand, and I sat down on his lap, my gaze never leaving the girl on the bench. "Honey, this is Camille," Frasier explained. "She seems to have gotten separated from her family. I was going to take her to the office at the front gate."

Camille looked up at me and smiled. "Hi!" She couldn't have been more than six.

My moment of shock vanished, and I smiled back. "Hi."

She looked at me for a moment. "Are you Lilith?" she asked.

I looked at Frasier, wondering what on earth he had told her about me. "Um... yes."

She went back to her lens cap, attempting to place it back on the camera. "Frasier says you're crazy for going on that ride four times," she giggled. "Once he almost decided to go, though," she added.

Frasier turned away, and I looked at him suspiciously. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah," Camille went on. "When that blonde lady in the bathing suit got in line."

"Oh, really?" I repeated, arching one eyebrow.

Frasier had the decency to look embarrassed. He quickly dropped his gaze and took hold of Camille's hand. "Come on, honey," he told her. "Let's go find your parents."

We made it as far as the food stands before stopping again. "I'm hungry," Camille announced. "I haven't had anything to eat in years and years and years!"

I chuckled to myself. "Camille, sweetheart, you're exaggerating, but you have a point. It is"-I looked at my watch-"past one already."

"What's exapparating?" Camille asked, staring up at me with those blue eyes of hers. Frasier's blue eyes. No, not Frasier's eyes, although they could have been. I didn't know whether to hug her or to cry.

"Exaggerating," Frasier gently corrected her. "It means stretching the truth." Noting Camille's still-confused look, he added "It's when you start with a truth, in this case, your being hungry, and describe it in extended terms that couldn't possibly be true, like not having eaten in years."

"Frasier, you can explain later," I interrupted quickly. "Why don't we take a lunch break now?"

"Yay!" Camille exclaimed, tugging Frasier over to the food stand. "Can I have ice cream?"

"Of course," Frasier answered, getting out his wallet. "With chocolate syrup and sprinkles?"

"Frasier!" I exclaimed. "I think we should all have something a little more nutritious."

"Oh, all right," he sulked. I smiled to myself, noting that between him and Camille, Frasier looked more like a pouting child at the moment.

We soon discovered that Magic Mountain isn't exactly where you go for nutritious cuisine. We settled on hamburgers and fries for all of us at an ungodly amount of money, with the promised ice cream for Camille if she finished everything else first. We picked a table in the sun, and sat down to enjoy our meal.

Camille was full of questions. "Do you watch Blues Clues? Do you have any cats? Do you have any children?"

Frasier, obviously enchanted by the child, answered all of them. "No, we've never seen Blues Clues," after whispering to me to find out what she meant.

"And we don't have any cats," I jumped in. "They make Frasier sneeze."

"It's the dander," he pouted. "It's not my fault."

"And we have a son," I added, answering Camille's last question. "Frederick is fourteen."

"Don't you have any little girls?" she asked, the picture of wide-eyed innocence.

I slowly shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. "If I did have a little girl, I'd want her to be just like you."

Frasier reached under the table and took my hand.

"Can I come stay with you guys?" Camille pleaded. "Please? I won't eat much, I can live on ice cream!"

I looked at Frasier, who was doing his best to suppress a chuckle. "Don't you think your family will miss you?" he suggested.

Camille shrugged, scooping up a disgracefully large lump of ice cream with her spoon. "My sister won't, she's always telling me she's going to find me a foster family anyhow."

As familiar as I was with the concept of sibling rivalry, I could hardly imagine how anyone could do anything but adore this little cherub. I noticed some couples glancing towards our table and smiling, and I was more than content to sit here and pretend we were a family.

"Oh, I'm sure she doesn't mean that," I said. "Besides, we live way too far away. I'm from Boston, and Frasier lives in Seattle."

A puzzled look came over her face. "Why don't you live in the same house?"

My eyes met with Frasier's, and I quickly looked away. It was a question I'd been secretly asking myself for months. How desperately I wanted that. To be able to go to sleep every night without wondering if he would be there in the morning... to wake up and not have to think about how many days I had left with him...

Frasier sensed my anxiety and came to the rescue. "Well, we... you see, it's rather-oh, look at the time!" he exclaimed pointing to his watch. "It's almost two. Your parents must be worried sick about you."

She stood up, scraping the last molecules of ice cream from her bowl, and tugged on Frasier's sleeve. "Can I have a piggy-back ride?"

"You bet," he smiled, lifting her onto his back as we made our way to the front gate.

Camille's mother was waiting for us when we arrived, her eyes filled with tears, nervously fiddling with the tail of her t-shirt.

Camille hopped down off Frasier and ran to her. "Mommy!"

Her mother looked up and leapt from her chair, picking up her daughter and holding her close. A pang of jealousy shot through me, and I turned away, resting my head on Frasier's shoulder.

"Where have you been?!" her mother cried. "Are you all right?"

Frasier took the liberty and stepped forward while I held onto his arm and remained silent. "She's fine," he assured her. "My wife and I found her over by Shock Wave about an hour ago. We took her to lunch with us and we all got some ice cream, didn't we, Camille?"

"With chocolate syrup and sprinkles!" she reminded him.

Her mother, still teary-eyed and clutching Camille tightly, walked over to us. "I can't thank you both enough."

Frasier smiled. "Don't mention it. She's a delightful child."

The woman gave her daughter kiss on the cheek. "Camille, can you tell these nice people 'thank you'?"

Camille wriggled out of her mother's grasp and gave Frasier a big bear hug. "Thank you, Frasier. Especially for the ice cream," she added.

All at once, she unexpectedly left him and threw her arms around me. "I'll miss you guys!"

Frasier positioned himself a few feet in front of us and took out his camera. "Smile, you two," he said to us both.

"Say cheese!" Camille insisted, and we did.

As we left the front gate, waving to Camille until we were out of sight, I felt my eyes welling up with tears. When we turned the corner, I suddenly felt Frasier's arm around me as he held me close. "I thought you might want a picture of her," he whispered.

I rested my head on his shoulder and let a tear fall down my face. "I miss her."

He led me over to a secluded bench in the shade, and as we sat down, I buried my head underneath his chin and snuggled into his embrace.

I hadn't expected it to hurt that much. Camille had been in our lives for less than an hour, but I couldn't have missed her more if she had been the daughter Frasier and I never had. The time we had spent with her had been like a glimpse into what might have been, and it hurt like hell to return back to reality.

Frasier and I spent another three hours at the park, eating overpriced junk food, hitting the other roller coasters, and in one moment of what I can only describe as insanity, getting soaking wet on the water rapid ride.

We arrived back at the hotel still damp, stuffed with hamburgers and hot dogs, and with the unspoken question hanging over our heads.

* * *

Neither Lilith or I had said much since leaving Camille with her mother that afternoon. I had been doing a lot of thinking, and wasn't any closer to coming to a decision than I had when I woke up. I knew that we had agreed to discuss our conclusions later that night, and I had no idea what I was going to tell her. To postpone the discussion, I suggested we rent a movie. We agreed on, of course, "Cyrano de Bergerac."

Which brought me to the present moment, stretched out on the bed with Lilith beside me, both of us staring at the TV. Last night, when I had thought I might become a father again, I was terrified. But more than that, I was exhilarated. I wanted that test to be positive. I wanted another child. And when I didn't get them, it hurt so much more than I ever imagined it would.

But for every part of my brain that said yes, let's have another child, there was another part cautioning me of the consequences. Was it wise to bring a baby into the world when things hadn't been worked out between us? Were we too old to be good parents? And what about Frederick? Did he want to be an older brother?

The movie ended, and Lilith turned to me, her eyes still misty from the ending. "Is it just me, or does that movie get better every time I watch it?"

I smiled at her. "It's so much better when I can actually be here with you."

She took my hand, lacing her fingers between mine. "You're right," she agreed.

I reached for the remote with my other hand, turning off the TV and pushing the Rewind button. The VCR began to whine as the tape rewound. Lilith turned away and began picking lint off the bedspread. I watched her, not knowing what to say.

Finally, she turned to me, apprehension written all over her face. "Have you had a chance to think about it?" she whispered.

I sighed. "I haven't *stopped* thinking about it all day."

"Me either," she said softly. "The question is, what do we do now?"

I took her hands in mine. "What do you really want?"

She stared at me with those beautiful brown eyes. "Honestly?"

I nodded. "I want to know."

"I want what I wanted two days ago," she whispered. I opened my mouth to reply, and she cut me off, continuing on. "I've wanted another child ever since Frederick was born, and today...oh, Frasier, Camille was everything I imagined our daughter would be like."

I was still staring at her. Lilith looked away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

I touched her cheek, and she turned back to me. "Me too," I said softly. "I mean, I want that too."

"You do?" she whispered, seeming unable to believe it.

I nodded. "More than anything." As I spoke, all my doubts faded away. I knew this was the right thing to do.

Hardly having the chance to even anticipate her reaction, she threw her arms around me and clung to me for dear life. "Thank you," she finally breathed.

No words could have been suitable to express my happiness, or fear, or peace at finally having made my decision. I simply pulled her closer to me and remained still. "I love you."

"I love you too."

At last I pulled away, looking at her intently, trying to read her thoughts with no luck. What was there to say now? "Lilith..." I began unsteadily, unsure of where I was going or what I could possibly say to her to fix any of this. "What about us?"

She took a deep breath, attempting to compose herself. "I don't know what's going to happen," she admitted.

"I don't want to lose you," I told her. It wasn't a statement as much as it was a plea, although it's not as though she had any more control of this than I did.

Her eyes began to glisten with tears. "Me either." Her gaze drifted around the room, as though trying to take in every detail. "I wish this week didn't have to end," she whispered.

I took her by the shoulders, diverting her attention back to reality, as much as I hated to do so. It wasn't a place I wanted to be in either. "But it will," I said, trying more to convince myself than her. To me, it didn't have to end. It couldn't. But it would, I'd told her. Very soon.

She turned away, wiping away a tear. "And then what?"

"And then I'll miss you like crazy," I whispered, gathering her to me as we both fell down against the pillows.

"Oh," she replied, as though she had been expecting me to say something else. Something more along the lines of... 'and then I'll come home to Boston with you, and we'll never be apart ever again'. Which, in all honesty, was what I'd wanted to say to her all along. I didn't want to divorce her. I knew I would never make it through something like that. To sit in a courtroom and tell those people I didn't love her, I didn't want to be married to her, I didn't want to honor and cherish her for the rest of our days... all lies.

When my heartbeat slowed down again after these thoughts, I summoned my courage and looked down at her. "Maybe we should... wait," I suggested vaguely.

"Wait for what?" she asked, her eyes staring into mine in confusion.

I felt my heart skip a beat. There was no easy way to say this. It could be taken so many ways. "Wait... on the divorce, I mean." Wait... how long? A month? A year? ...Never? "Until we know," I added, answering my own thoughts. That made wonderful sense. If she happens to get knocked up, we stay married. If not, we don't.

This was a bigger mess than I'd thought.

Her face fell. "Is that how we're going to decide?"

"I don't know!" I blurted out. She didn't answer; only gave me one last glimpse of her hurt expression before sighing quietly and curling up beside me.

I gently ran my fingers through her dark hair. "I don't know what to do any more than you do," I confessed.

She rolled over and stared up at me. "I suppose whatever's meant to happen, will," she said dully.

"Really?" I asked quietly.

She sighed. "No. Not really. I want to believe it, but honestly, I can't believe we were meant to divorce at all."

I stared at her. "What are you saying?" I asked quietly.

"Did you ever imagine we would end up like this?" she demanded. "Divorced, lonely, and living across the country from each other?"

"And still loving each other," I added softly.

She nodded slowly. "More than ever."

The entire situation was so ironic. "Something's so wrong here," I commented.

"It's because we're afraid," Lilith answered quietly. "We can't seem to move past that."

It didn't make sense to me. "Why not?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "But whatever it is, it's kept us apart all these years, and it's keeping us apart now."

"Then we have to stop."

"What do you mean, stop?" she asked, a puzzled expression on her face.

"Stop letting it keep us apart, or..."

I meant to finish with "stop trying." But she kissed me before the words had a chance to leave my mouth.

I kissed her back. And there was no more discussion that night.

It was already late morning when we awoke. The entire room was a disaster. Last night had progressed to degrees of enthusiasm I hadn't expected after that first innocent kiss I'd given Frasier. Now, as I looked around the room, I spotted my blouse on the lamp, his pants draped over the chair, and shoes thrown about here and there. Not to mention the rest of the blankets, which were bunched up on the floor and hindering any path from the bed to the door.

A solitary sheet covered us, and as I turned over, I discovered I was still wrapped up in Frasier's arms. All at once the realization hit me. This was our last real morning together. Tomorrow we would barely have time to wake up before we left for the airport. His plane left at 6:50; mine at 6:15. I propped myself up on my elbow and leaned over him, simply watching him sleep. This may be the last time I ever got to do this. I couldn't bear the thought, and put it out of my mind before the tears began to fall. He was so peaceful... as though he had no idea this was our last day together. I watched him breathe, slowly, steadily... wishing I could kiss him, but not wanting to disturb him. He stirred slightly at one point, reaching over to make sure I was still there. I found his hand and held it tightly, and he relaxed once again.

When he finally opened his eyes, I had been watching him so intently that it came as a surprise. He smiled at me, and I lay my head down on his chest, glad that I could finally touch him without worrying that I would wake him.

"I don't want to get up," he whispered after a silence. "Maybe if we just stay here forever, this won't have to end."

I rolled over onto my own side of the bed, holding back the tears. "I don't want to talk about any of that today."

"Okay," he said softly, letting the matter drop, to my relief. He leaned over, dropping a soft kiss in my hair. "Can I take you out tonight?" he asked.

I felt myself grinning. "You tore your pants, remember?"

He rested his head on my shoulder and put his arm around me. "Let's go shopping, then. We'll spoil ourselves rotten."

I lifted my head and looked at him. "Where?"

He grinned. "Rodeo Drive, baby."

"You mean it?" He nodded, and in one swift motion I rolled him over and climbed on top of him, pinning him down and fiddling with his hair. "Frasier, how extravagant. Let's go for it."

He reached up and put an arm around my shoulders, drawing me to him and kissing my neck softly. "If we ever get out of bed, that is."

"You naughty boy," I scolded playfully. "If we stay here all day, we'll never get anything done."

"What's wrong with that?" he asked, kissing me again.

After ten minutes, I regretfully extracted myself from his embrace. "You promised me we'd go shopping today," I reminded him.

"And so we shall," he insisted. "But do we have to go *right* now?"

I gave in and kissed him.

We finally made it out the door a little after noon. We had had to turn back once already, when Frasier forgot his wallet. Then, because it was everyone's lunch hour and traffic was jammed, we had to wait for twenty minutes before getting a cab. Then it was another thirty minutes stuck in traffic before we finally made it to Rodeo Drive.

"How do you want to do this?" Frasier asked. "Do we shop for ourselves, or for each other?"

I thought for a moment. "For each other," I finally decided. "Then we can have a little fashion show for each other back at the hotel." I sent him a seductive look, and he dropped his jaw and assumed a vacant look.

I loved doing that.

I kissed him goodbye, and disappeared into the Armani store. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Frasier vanish into Chanel.

"May I help you?" I looked up, and saw a salesman approach me. Impeccably dressed, brown mustache, and an English accent, no less than what I expected from Beverly Hills.

I stood up straight. "I'm looking for a tuxedo for my husband," I replied.

"Very well, ma'am," he answered. "What size is your husband?"

"Lilith." Someone touched my arm and I turned around. It was Frasier, naturally. "What size dress do you wear?"

I took hold of his arm and brought him over to the salesman. "This is my husband," I told him. "I trust you can make all the necessary measurements."

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He called over someone else, and they whipped out a tape measure, taking measurements in rapid speed.

"Lilith," Frasier insisted. "What size dress do you wear? I left the saleswoman standing there!"

I sighed. "I'm a size two. If you need anything else, I'll be there in a minute."

I scurried across the street where I'd left the saleswoman waiting in the store. "Two," I announced. "She's a size two."

"Oh, what a coincidence, so am I," the woman replied, smiling, taking me by the hand and leading me through the store. "I'm Gloria, by the way."

"Um... Frasier," I replied, glancing around the store and praying no one I knew saw me here. I couldn't have felt more out of place. Lingerie hanging all over the place, dresses everywhere I turned... granted, it wasn't much more than an orderly version of our hotel room after a particularly wild night, but...

"Frasier," she repeated in a slow, alluring voice. "That's very sexy." I felt myself blush, and tried to shrug it off with a smile. "Now, what exactly are we looking for?"

I thought for a moment, contemplating what I would most love to see Lilith wearing that evening... aside from the obvious choice of nothing, naturally. "Well, it's going to be a somewhat refined restaurant, so I would probably need..."

"A date?" she asked, raising an eyebrow hopefully. I stared at her, opened my mouth to say something, and closed it, not having a clue how to respond.

I finally smiled, turning away to avoid making a fool of myself. "Not exactly. I need something for my wife."

A look of disappointment flashed across her face, and she quickly led me over to the eveningwear. "What restaurant are you taking her to?"

"Cardini's," I replied.

She immediately snatched up a gorgeous... almost-dress. Oh, baby. My jaw must have dropped further than I'd thought, because she smiled and stifled a laugh. "You like it?"

Immediately I nodded, unable to answer with words. It was perfect. A deep crimson, and just barely transparent only to the most observant eyes... mine, of course. Dangerously short, and backless, with a tiny strap to go around the neck... and that, to my delight, was about it.

"You know, you really can't tell how it looks just by seeing it on the hanger..." she noted. "Shall I try it on for you?" I must have looked hesitant, because she quickly continued. "Just to make sure it would be absolutely perfect for her..."

She shot me a smile I couldn't resist, and I gave in. "Oh, all right," I smiled back. "Go ahead."

She asked me to watch the front counter and disappeared into the dressing room. I wandered around the front of the store, peeking out the window across the street to see what Lilith was up to. I finally spotted her in some upstairs room of her shop, adjusting some fellow's bow tie... straightening his suit jacket... sipping a cup of coffee... and laughing. Good Lord, what was going on over there?

I heard the changing room door swing open, and I turned around, nearly dropping the empty hanger that was in my hand.

"Ah, that's a good sign," she grinned, bending over to pick up the hanger, and I nearly lost it. "Oh, I just need you to help me with the strap in the back, it's one of those tie things..." She walked up to me and turned around, and ignoring all the hesitance inside me, I reached up and began fiddling with the tie.

I laughed as the tie slipped out of my fingers. "What is this, satin? It's so soft."

"Oh, Frasier, you're so sweet," she said, then stopped, shooting me a seductive grin in the mirror. "You were talking about the dress, weren't you?"

Before I knew it, we were both laughing like giddy teenagers. Which, of course, was when Lilith walked up behind us.

"Oh, shit," I mumbled before I could stop myself.

Lilith's expression was impossible to read. "Frasier, what are you doing?"

I sighed. "Lilith, honey, this isn't what it looks like."

"Frasier, please!" she exclaimed. "Don't say anything else."

She turned to leave, and I caught her by the arm. "Let's talk about this. Please." She still looked hesitant. "Please. Five minutes."

"All right," she agreed. "Explain."

I looked around the store, at the other customers. At the salespeople. At Gloria, who had been staring at us the entire time. "Here?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a better idea?"

"All right," I sighed. "I was buying a dress for you. I wasn't sure how it would look, so Gloria here offered to try it on for me. That's all."

"Is that it?" she asked. "Are you sure there isn't something you're not telling me?"

"And I helped her tie the strap in the back," I finished. "And that's all. I promise."

She looked down, and I cautiously reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're my wife," I said quietly. "You're the only one I want to go out with tonight."

"Oh, Frasier." She threw her arms around me. "I didn't mean to be so suspicious. I really do trust you."

I kissed her softly. "I know."

I looked over at Gloria, who was looking obviously disappointed. "I'll take the dress," I told her. "Thank you for your help."

"Yeah, sure," she muttered. But she took the dress off and rung it up for me. When we left, she was working her charms on another gentleman. I admired her tenacity, if nothing else.

We arrived back at the hotel several hours later, with aching feet and arms weighted down with shopping bags. "Well, I'd say that was a successful expedition," I announced, kicking off my shoes and flopping back on the bed.

Lilith sat down at the desk. "Yes, sure," she agreed halfheartedly.

I sat up. "Is anything wrong?"

She sighed. "I'm just thinking too much, that's all."

"Thinking about what?"

"Did you realize this is our last afternoon together?" she asked quietly. "I've tried to put it out of my mind, but that's all I've been able to think about."

I stared at the end of the bedspread, unable to face her. One look at her at this moment, and I'd never be able to make myself leave. So that's what it had come to. Forcing myself to leave her. This was worse than leaving because I wanted to. Not that I would know; even after our divorce, I never *wanted* to leave. But I had to.

Right. Just keep telling yourself that, Frasier.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about that today," I reminded her quietly, staring at my feet.

She nodded quickly, standing up and straightening her clothes. "You're right," she stated with conviction. "I don't."

"But you need to talk about it anyway." It was hardly a question. She nodded tearfully, and I scooted over on the bed to clear a space for her. "Come here, sweetheart," I whispered.

Without hesitation, she crawled onto the bed and into my embrace. I took in everything at once, promising myself I would die before I forgot one detail of this moment. If I couldn't make this last, I would at least make the memory last. Her silky hair against my shoulder... the feeling of her hand clasped in mine. The way she would trace little patterns on my arm with her finger. How sometimes I could see her standing across the room, and, unable to bear another second of being apart from her, reach the other side of the room in one long stride, pick her up in my arms, and kiss her.

"You know what I'll miss most?" she whispered, as though reading my mind.

I shook my head. "Tell me. Every detail."

"Late at night..." she began, idly weaving her fingers through mine. "When neither of us want to sleep for fear of letting the night end. So we just watch each other, or hold each other, or talk to each other..."

Or get it on like randy teenagers, I added mentally, smiling to myself. "This isn't the end, Lilith. I know it isn't." She didn't look up, and for the first time I'd said something of the sort, I got the impression that she didn't believe me. "I mean it," I went on. "There will be nights like that. Lots of them. It's not over. We're not over." Silence. "Okay?"

"Why is this worth it?" she asked me... or asked the room in general. Or asked herself. I had no idea.

Although I wasn't sure exactly what she meant, it was obviously not the kind of question I wanted to hear from someone who had been suicidal not two months before. "Because it's going to work," I told her with the most confidence I could muster. "Someday. This is going to work. And you know that's worth it."

"No, Frasier," she said softly, lifting her head and looking me in the eyes. "Only the promise is worth it. Not the possibility."

I lifted her up and held her listless figure in my arms as she tried so desperately to keep from crying. "It's a promise," I whispered. "Can you trust me on that?"

I couldn't tell if she nodded or not, considering her head was buried in my shoulder. But I told myself this would be all right. Because I loved her. Because that would never change. Because I didn't know how to let her go.

* * *

The food at Cardini's was wonderful, but I could barely nibble at my chicken parmagiana. Instead I concentrated on the candle flame flickering, the faint sounds of traffic, and every other detail of the experience. Anything to take my mind off the fact that in less than ten hours, this would all be over.

"You haven't eaten much," Frasier commented quietly.

I quickly put a forkful of spaghetti into my mouth. "It's delicious. Really."

"But you don't have much of an appetite?" he asked. I sighed and nodded. "Me either," he agreed, dropping his fork onto his plate.

I choked down another mouthful of chicken. "I wish we could forget about tomorrow," I reflected, more to myself than to Frasier. "It doesn't seem fair that it has to spoil our time together tonight."

Frasier nodded. "Finish your dinner, and I've got something to give you."

"Oh, really?" I gave him a seductive look. "There isn't any way I can coax you into telling me what it is, is there?"

"Only by finishing your dinner," he stated firmly. "You've gotten too thin lately."

I rolled my eyes at him and went back to picking at my food. "The spaghetti too," Frasier prompted when I finished with my chicken. I was tempted to fling a few strands at him, but I wanted to find out what this mysterious surprise was.

I dropped my fork on my now-empty plate. "There," I announced. "What's your big surprise?"

Frasier reached into his jacket pocket. "To be honest, I wasn't sure if I should have bought this for you, considering, well..."

I nodded, although I had no idea what he was talking about. "Whatever it is, I appreciate the thought."

He looked relieved, and pulled a small velvet box out of his jacket pocket. "I saw this today, and I had to get it for you," he said softly. "I know it's customary to give a wedding ring during the ceremony, but I wanted you to have this before you left tomorrow."

He handed the box to me. I slowly opened it, to see a beautiful diamond ring, surrounded by four tiny emeralds. The stones twinkled at me in the candlelight. "Frasier, I don't know what to say," I breathed.

"Say you'll wear it," he said gently, taking the box from me and sliding the ring onto my finger.

"This must have cost you a fortune," I protested. "You really shouldn't have."

"I wanted to," he insisted. "Please, Lilith. This is important to me."

So many thoughts were pouring into me all at once, and I couldn't decide which one to focus on. I wanted to run away from there and make myself forget how much I loved him. I didn't want to worry about whether this ring would mean anything in a few months. But more than anything, I wanted to be in his arms.

I leapt up from my seat, and Frasier, being the understanding one that he was, stood up as well. I practically threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closely to me... to the amusement, or perhaps simply wonder, of the entire restaurant.

"I don't deserve you," I whispered into his ear.

He held me back, taking me firmly by the shoulders and staring at me with those hypnotic cerulean eyes. "Don't ever say that," he whispered.

I felt the tears begin to cascade down my cheeks. "I love you, Frasier."

I remembered how I'd said just that, in that same simple way, months ago when he had called me from Belize to ask me about his dream. I hadn't even known what made me say it, but after I hung up the phone, it was as though a flood had just struck me, and I felt myself drowning... but unwilling to step away. I'd barely put down the receiver, and suddenly I felt myself turn pale as I covered my hand with my mouth. My ex-husband, whom I saw once or twice a year... whom I hadn't been romantically involved with for nearly nine years... I'd just said "I love you" to him. And meant it.

And now, three months later, here we were. Married. In love more than we had ever been. I couldn't even think about tomorrow. I was too overwhelmed with the present.

Some while later, Frasier instructed our cab driver to drop us off at the edge of the beach. Neither of us was very hungry, and I didn't want to go back to the hotel, not for anything in the world. Being there seemed to make time itself move faster. That was the last thing I wanted. Maybe, I tried to convince myself, it would last longer if we were away from it all.

And here we were, on the beach. Our second honeymoon... practically. But this time there was no sunset, and no beach chair... and no resort attendant to snap our picture when we weren't looking. Yet somehow this was far more memorable, in ways both extraordinary... and extraordinarily depressing.

I looked down at the sand beneath our feet as we waded through the ankle-deep water. Frasier held my hand tightly, and I certainly wasn't about to let go of his if I had any say in the matter. We leaned against each other, whispering and laughing when the mood would permit. I kept mostly silent, but he tried. He tried to talk to me as we had done all week. Sometimes awkwardly, sometimes when we were frightened... but at least we'd been able to talk. But now... all I could think of was finding a way to tell him the one thing I wanted more than anything.

I lifted my hand, still clasped in his, and stared at the ring. It was even more breathtaking in the moonlight. It felt so strange. People would look at me and see that I was a married woman. This was no longer our Sunday night mistake as a result of booze and a lack of self-control. This was our marriage... however tarnished, however unconventional.

"You like it?" he asked, kissing my fingertips.

"It's incredible," I said softly.

All at once I stopped walking, causing him to suddenly turn around, leaving us face to face, with scarcely a sliver of moonlight between us.

"What is it?" he whispered.

I didn't even take a deep breath. I didn't think about it. I didn't prepare my words, or ponder his reaction, or plan a way out if I should decide I regretted saying it.

"Come home with me."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew what Frasier's response would be. He couldn't come to Boston, any more than we could stay here on this beach forever. Time would push us along, like it or not.

Frasier opened his mouth to speak, and I put a finger up to his lips. "I know," I whispered. "You don't have to say it."

He put his arm around my shoulders, and we watched the waves crash onto the shore in the dim moonlight. Neither one of us said a word. To speak would only destroy the peaceful feeling that came with being on a deserted beach at ten thirty at night.

I would go on. Frederick needed me to take care of him. My colleagues at the lab needed me to supervise the experiments. The small handful of private patients I had taken on needed me as well. I didn't have the luxury of hiding away for the rest of my life.

Without Frasier, the grass would grow, and the ocean waves would crash against the shore as they had done for millions of years. Flowers would bloom, the ground would thaw, and the cold Boston winters would give way to spring. But not for me. Without him, I would never be truly happy again.

A faint breeze blew off the ocean, lightly tousling my hair. Frasier's arm tightened around my shoulder. "It's a beautiful night," he said softly, breaking the silence.

"Yes, it is," I agreed. "I didn't know Los Angeles could be this peaceful."

The waves lapped against our feet, leaving them covered with a thin layer of sand when they retreated out to the sea. I waded in a little more, until my ankles were underwater. The wet sand was cool and firm beneath my feet.

"Lilith." Frasier took my hands in his. "I want you to know that I don't regret a moment about this week. I wouldn't change a single thing."

"I know," I whispered. "Me too."

It had been a week of surprises, starting with that unforgettable night where we got drunk and got married within two hours of each other. A night I couldn't even remember until two days later. An encounter in the piano lounge. The feeling of heartbreaking betrayal when I learned that Frasier had kept our marriage a secret from me.

I thought that I could never forgive him for that. But I did, because the only thing greater than my hurt and heartbreak was the fact that I loved Frasier more than life itself. Our date that night, overlooking the entire city of Los Angeles. The grass and the mud and the rain. The next day, a failed attempt at an annulment that neither one of us truly wanted.

Dairy Queen. The pregnancy test. Oh, God, the pregnancy test. The hope and fear and excitement before, and the crushing disappointment afterwards. And then the next day, and Camille, and seeing what might have been if we had worked out the problems in our marriage, instead of taking the easy way out and divorcing.

It had been without question the most intense six days of my life. And in the same way, the most wonderful.

I squeezed Frasier's hands. "I wouldn't change it either," I whispered.

Without a second thought, we both moved in for a kiss. Everything suddenly felt so strange... three months ago, I would never have imagined I would be here, on a Los Angeles beach, kissing my ex-husband... or, should I say now, my husband. I wondered how I had survived all those long, lonely years without these moments. And now that I'd been able to experience them again, I didn't know if I'd be able to live without them this time.

But tonight was about us... not our regrets. I had to forget them, or the entire night would pass us by.

After a few moments, still locked in our kiss, I took his hand in mine and began leading him further out into the water.

He broke away, nonetheless following me without question, and smiled in his curiosity. "What are you doing?"

A seductive grin slowly grew on my face, and I let go of his hand, stepping back further. "What's the matter, Dr. Crane? Not up for a midnight swim?"

He smiled back and took a few steps towards me. I took a few backwards. He took one more, and I took one back. Okay, this could go on for a while. He stopped when the water began lapping at the cuffs of his rolled-up pants. "Lilith, I can't get these pants wet," he whined, realizing what a pitiful excuse that was as I looked at him with one raised eyebrow.

"Well, I can't get this dress wet either," I pouted, lifting the hem of it ever so slightly as I took another step back. "What a shame."

His jaw dropped. "Lilith..."

"I suppose," I sighed, taking another step back, and making sure to keep my dress out of the water, "we could go home and change..."

He was completely mesmerized now. This was too much fun.

"...Except that I didn't bring a bathing suit with me," I added. I took two more steps, and before I knew it the water was up to my waist. I looked back at him enticingly, and he stared. Slowly I reached behind my neck and began to untie the little strap...

He nearly stumbled into the water. "Lilith..." he began again. He knew I couldn't go much further without...

In one flash of impulse, I whipped the dress off over my head, tossed it back into his arms before he could even react, and disappeared under water.

When I popped my head out a few moments later, Frasier was still standing there, holding my dress, his mouth wide open. I smiled. "I must admit, Frasier, this isn't much fun all by myself."

He didn't need any more coaxing than that. He rolled my dress and his jacket up into a ball, tossed them onto the shore, and dove in, suit and all, surfacing inches away from me. I put my hands on his shoulders for support.

"You're insane," he whispered, pulling me close to him.

I found the first button on his shirt and worked my way down. "Yes," I smiled. "Yes, I am."

He kissed me, and we fell into each other's embrace, forgetting that this night ever had to end.

When it was over, I half expected floodlights to flash on above us, or a huge crowd of people to be gathered at the edge of the beach. No one in books or movies ever got away with making love on a public beach, without paying some humiliating price.

But there was nothing. The only light came from the moon, heavily filtered by the blanket of smog that covered the city. The beach was deserted, and the only sound came from the waves gently lapping against the shore, and against our wet bodies.

Frasier grinned at me like a little boy who knows he's done something naughty. "I've always wanted to do that."

I kissed his nose, which tasted like salt. What a surprise. "Would you say this was the craziest place we've ever done it?" I asked seductively.

He looked thoughtful. "I don't think so," he decided. "The craziest was that time in the elevators at the Empire State Building."

I burst out laughing. "I can't believe you remembered that! Although now that you mention it, I can't believe I forgot."

Frasier grinned wickedly. "Or how about the time we..." He whispered the rest in my ear, and my face turned red. He laughed as I buried my face in my hands, shaking my head.

"You're hopeless," I sighed, swatting him playfully.

"Of course I am," he admitted without missing a beat. "That's why you love me."

A wet piece of cloth washed up next to us. Frasier's tie. I plucked it out of the water and handed it to him.

"I hope you didn't want to wear this again," I commented.

He took it and wrung it out. "I'll keep it as a souvenir," he replied. "I'll cherish it forever."

Another breeze began to blow. Maybe it was chillier than the first, or maybe it was just that we were both soaking wet. In any case, it was cold enough to make us both shiver.

"Maybe we should go someplace warmer," I suggested, wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to keep myself warm.

Frasier was only too happy to agree, and we sat up to put on our clothes. Only to find that they were missing.

The humiliating consequence for our action had come after all. I knew it.

I spotted my dress floating a few yards away, and swam over to retrieve it. Our shoes had washed up nearby. So had Frasier's shirt and boxers. We searched for half an hour, but couldn't find the rest.

When we became sufficiently exhausted, and ended up in the same place we'd started, I sat down on the beach and looked up at Frasier, who was standing in his shirt and boxers and looking absolutely horrified. I couldn't help myself, and burst out laughing.

He stared at me in shock. "What-what are you-it's not funny!"

This caused me to fall into even greater hysterics, and before long I was sprawled out on the sand, laughing uncontrollably like a two-year-old.

Frasier took this opportunity to pounce on me, pinning my arms above my head and staring into my eyes. "You just think you're so cute," he whispered, kissing me softly. He pulled us both up and, as soon as we were standing, he lifted me up in his arms and started walking towards the street.

"Frasier, what are you doing?"

"I'm taking us home. You're sandier than I thought," he noted, blowing a few grains out of my hair.

I contentedly leaned my head against his shoulder and put my arms around his neck. "You know, if you're going for inconspicuous, I wouldn't say this is the way to do it," I noted.

He planted a kiss on my cheek. "As if everyone doesn't know about us by now anyway."

I walked the short distance back to our hotel room, carrying Lilith the entire way. By the time we reached the lobby, she was asleep. My shoes had at least stopped dripping; now they preferred to make a sort of squishy sloshing sound each time I took a step. The ever-present nightshift concierge took one look at us and turned away to hide his laughter.

"Hi, Julian," I said to him. "How's tricks?"

"Is she asleep?" he asked, and I nodded. "You guys leaving in the morning?" Again, I nodded, this time more slowly and without the smile. "Tell her I said hi."

"I will," I said quietly, making my way to the elevator.

When we arrived in our room, after a protracted struggle between me and the room key, I carried her into the dark, quiet room and lay her down gently on the bed, removing her shoes and putting them under a chair. I had planned to take a shower, but when I got one look at her sleeping so peacefully, I knew I couldn't leave her for a second.

I crept around the room, looking for her nightgown, and finally found it folded on a chair... after tripping over my suitcase and her notebook.

This was going to be tricky, I told myself. I lifted her up slightly, peeled off the soaking wet dress, and attempted to slip the nightgown over her. Which, of course, was when she half-woke up.

She yawned, lifting her arms to let me finish, and I pulled the nightgown over her, smoothing out the wrinkles, and gently set her back down against the pillow. She looked so precious and innocent, like a little girl... how she managed to look like that after what we'd just done, I had no idea... and it made me smile to myself.

I didn't know if I would have the heart to wake her in the morning.

I curled up beside her, taking her in my arms, and finally relaxed with a quiet sigh. We lay there for several minutes as I slowly began to doze off. And then, out of nowhere...

"I love you," she whispered.

I pressed my forehead to hers. "I love you too," I whispered. "So much it hurts me."

She kissed me, and then was silent. I knew she wasn't asleep, because every so often she would turn over, or sigh quietly, or give some other sign that as tired as she was, sleep was eluding her.

I touched her cheek. "Will you tell me what you're thinking?"

"I don't even know what I'm thinking," she said quietly. "So many thoughts are going through my head right now, and it's all I can do to keep track of them, let alone make sense of them all."

She couldn't have described it better. I knew just how she felt-the same thing was happening to me. What was going to happen to us? What if she was pregnant? What if she wasn't? Would we get a divorce? A separation? Stay married until someone else came along? Or would we find the courage to work everything out and give our life together another try?

I had promised her that we would be together again someday. I hoped to God that I could keep that promise.

Lilith yawned. "I can't believe it's so late."

The clock read eleven fourteen. In seven hours, Lilith would be gone. An hour more, and I would be too.

I hugged her tightly to me. "I'm going to stay awake just to hear your breathing," I whispered to her. "I don't want to miss one moment of being with you."

"Me either," she agreed softly. "I'd rather be with you than anything else."

She kissed me, and I kissed her back. And there was no more sleep that night.

At ten minutes past five, we got out of bed to watch the sun rise. The rest of the morning was unremarkable-showers, changes of clothes, a quick packing job, and a cab to the airport.

LAX was busy for such an ungodly hour, bustling with early morning travelers on their way to conferences not unlike the one we had just spent the week at. I held Lilith's hand from the moment we got out of the cab. During the check-in line. While we got our boarding passes and checked our luggage. "Boston and Seattle?" the girl asked us as she put stickers on our suitcases. "From the way the two of you look at each other, I'd swear you were newlyweds."

Oh, she had no idea.

We arrived at my gate at 6am. It was a small flight, and the rest of the passengers had already boarded. I held my purse in one hand, and the other one held onto Frasier tightly. Finally, as I reached the entrance to the walkway, I let go of him and turned around to face him. We didn't dare touch each other, for fear that if we did, we'd never be able to let go.

But soon Frasier abandoned this fear and threw his arms around me, holding me so protectively. I wondered if he would ever be able to let me leave. I hugged him back fiercely, so terrified that I wouldn't see him for a very long time.

When we finally broke apart, the ticket agent was calling to me that my flight was ready to depart, and by this time our faces were both wet with tears. We shared one last, lingering kiss, pulling each other closer with every second, unable to risk being broken apart by anything.

In a most excruciating gesture, I finally had to take his hands in mine and put them down by his sides. He looked at me, so lost and hurt, but nonetheless understanding. Even in that short moment, the feeling of not being in his arms made my heart sink and my head feel faint.

How was I going to do this for the days, weeks... and even months to come?

I couldn't speak to him. He knew I wouldn't want him to say a word either. I simply picked up my purse, which had been dropped during my involvement in our embrace, and started towards the walkway. I didn't get far. Frasier followed me and grabbed my arm, pulling me around for one last kiss. This one very well could have lasted right through my flight if I hadn't pulled away... the second time I'd had to do so in less than thirty seconds.

I couldn't handle this.

"Please," I whispered, without doubting that he knew exactly what I meant.

I left him standing there at the edge of the walkway as I went the length of it and boarded the plane. I couldn't look back.

Perhaps another minute went by as I found my seat, and I'd barely sat down before a figure came bustling down the aisle.

Frasier.

I stood up in the miniscule aisle and stopped him as he reached my seat. I took his hands and mine and took a step back, keeping a distance between us.

"I had to see you again..." he began.

"Don't do this to me," I stated firmly, my voice quavering. "Frasier... I can't handle this. Please. I'm begging you."

He took a step back, slowly, our eyes never leaving each other's. He took another step, and another, and at the third, I released his hands. He backed down the aisle, finally breaking our stare as he turned around and fled back through the walkway and out of sight.

I was forced back to my seat as the engine started with a jump.

I slumped down in the chair and stared out the window, with tears beginning to stream down my face. And then I saw Frasier, his forehead pressed to the glass, staring out at my plane.

I waved to him, although I knew that chances were he couldn't see me. Which he didn't seem to. I wiped my tears away anyhow. I didn't want him to see me cry.

Suddenly his face brightened, and he began waving frantically. I tried to smile as I waved back. In the front of the cabin, the flight attendant was demonstrating how the seat cushion could be used as a floatation device. I honestly couldn't care less.

The plane backed up, and I stared out the window, not wanting to let Frasier out of my sight. Then we were taxiing towards the runway. Frasier was running alongside the window, and I could see him darting around other people, disappearing for a few moments to go around some obstacle, only to reappear right away.

But as fast as he was running, the plane was faster, and he fell farther and farther behind. He seemed to realize this, because he stopped running and stood at the window, a forlorn figure with his hand pressed against the glass as though that could make my plane return.

I craned my neck in order to keep him in sight as long as possible. "I love you," I whispered quietly. Then the plane turned onto the runway, and Frasier disappeared from sight.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

I arrived in Seattle a little after ten, and was back at my apartment by eleven. When I opened the door, it was as if I'd never left. Daphne was out shopping with Roz, and Dad was watching TV in that godawful chair of his.

"Hey Frasier," he greeted me. "How was the conference?"

Well, let's see. I got married. Missed ninety percent of the conference in order to spend time with Lilith. We decided to try for another child. And then I let her go back to Boston all by herself.

"It was fine," I muttered. At that point, the last thing I wanted was to make polite conversation, and tell half-truths and all-out lies about a week that although had worn me out completely, had been one of the best of my entire life.

"I'm really tired," I said quickly. "Early flight and all."

Fortunately, Dad let it go at that. "You're right. Go get some rest."

I happily retreated to my room, only to discover that my problems had followed me. I couldn't call Lilith-she was probably still on the plane. I was all alone with this. And I was frightened.

As I lay on my bed, I closed my eyes and felt the unbearable silence close in around me. It wasn't as though our hotel hadn't had its quiet moments, but this silence didn't come from the room. It was the silence of a broken heart.

I couldn't look over to see her sleeping peacefully on the bed, or feel her warm body curled up against mine, or slip into the shower to ask if she minded any company, only to be greeted with one of her enthralling kisses.

As if my mind wasn't busy enough, something she'd told me before the conference kept echoing in my head, and now, on top of being miserable, I was insanely worried.

*If it turns out like Chicago did, I don't know if I could stand it.*

Oh, God.

Oh, well, to be fair, I could pick out a number of things that differed from Chicago. In Chicago, we hadn't gotten married. I don't seem to remember any pregnancy tests, either. Looks like we were safe.

I reached for the phone so quickly that I knocked over an entire stack of books, an empty glass, *and* the phone, before leaning over onto the floor to pick up the receiver.

"Hello?" a busy voice answered after a few rings. It was Frederick.

I smiled. "Frederick? It's Dad."

His tone brightened. "Hey!" Sound of pots and pans dropping to the floor. "Oh, crap, hang on."

"What are you doing?" I queried, reaching over to replace the items I had tossed aside in my dialing frenzy.

A faucet turned on in the background. "I'm making dinner for Mom," he explained. "Do you know where she keeps T's?"

I held the phone closer to my ear to make sure I had heard right. "T's?" I repeated.

"Yeah." He grabbed what sounded like a recipe book and read aloud. "Three T's of butter."

I hadn't expected to laugh at all that day, or any day in the near future, but I couldn't help myself. "That stands for 'tablespoon', son."

"Oh." Silence. "Oh, here they are!"

"Are you home alone?" I asked.

Sound of stirring, and... splattering? "I left Joe's this morning. Mom said I could."

I shocked myself by being almost afraid to ask. "Is she home yet?"

"Not until about six."

Two my time. Three more hours. I could try to sleep. I could go get something to eat. I could sit here in agony and loneliness. Not surprisingly, the latter sounded most appealing. "Well, just let her know I called," I said quietly.

"Okay," he replied.

"It's really nice of you to make dinner for her," I noted. "She's going to be pretty tired. You need any more help?"

Something splashed on the floor. "Um... no, I'll be fine."

I smiled. "Okay. Call me if you do."

"I will-I'd better go, something's sizzling and I don't think it's supposed to."

"All right. I'll talk to you later. Bye, son."

"Bye, Dad!"

I hung up and looked at my clock. Eleven seventeen. In the back of my mind, I could still see the hotel room, and smell the distinctive laundry detergent they used on the sheets. I could hear the ocean growing still as it enveloped us in its waves late last night. And I could certainly still taste that salt water... it had practically saturated our clothes and hair. And I missed it so much.

Only hours ago, we had been together, inches apart, if that. And now we were hundreds of miles away from each other. How little it took.

I arrived home to the smell of smoke. My first thought was that the house was burning down, and I dropped my suitcase and frantically began running around the house, trying to find the fire. When I got to the kitchen, I saw my son frantically fanning the smoke away from a smoldering frying pan, and I remembered that I had given him permission to come home early. "Frederick?"

He looked up, and his face lit up as he ran over and hugged me. "Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, sweetheart," I replied, smoothing his hair. "I missed you this week."

Frederick looked apologetically at the smoking mess on the stove. "I tried to fix dinner for you, but I kind of messed up."

I hugged him. "Never mind about that. I appreciate the thought."

"How's Dad?" Frederick asked quietly.

"Oh, he's fine," I answered, trying to sound casual. "He sends his love."

"When's he going to visit again?" my son wanted to know.

Probably in two months, when he comes to get a divorce.

I couldn't say that. How could I say that? "Soon, Frederick," I told him. "He's anxious to see you again." He opened his mouth to say something else, and suddenly it became very important that we not get into a conversation about Frasier. I could stand anything else at this point. A meteor falling through the roof. A plague of locusts. Anything except this. "I'm very tired from my trip," I told him. "Why don't you clean up this mess while I go take a nap?"

"Okay, Mom." He began to run dish water in the sink, and I left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to my room. I collapsed on the bed and curled into a ball, feeling wretched, and knowing that this time Frasier wasn't here to comfort me.

I had been through this before, after returning home from Chicago. Only it was worse this time, because so much more had happened. The ring Frasier had given me last night sparkled on my finger. The clothes in my suitcase were damp with sea water, or covered in grass stains, remnants of the nights we had spent together. We were married, and although I wouldn't find out for another few months, I might be expecting another one of his children.

And I missed him, terribly. It seemed difficult to believe that we had been together not twelve hours ago. And now we were three thousand miles apart again. Unable to see or touch each other.

There was a soft knock on my door. "Come in," I called faintly.

Frederick opened the door. "I forgot to tell you, Dad called a couple hours ago. He said to let you know he called."

I nodded. "Thank you, Frederick." He shut the door, and I sat on the bed for a few moments before pouncing on the phone and dialing.

I lay back on the bed, holding the phone up to my ear impatiently. Martin answered after two rings. "Hello?"

"Martin? It's Lilith."

He muttered something to himself. "Um, hang on, he's in his room," he finally explained. Holding the phone away from his ear, he yelled out, "FRASIER! PHO-O-O-NE!"

I couldn't help myself, and smiled. We'd been through this so many times in the last months. At least we'd gotten past the initial weeks, where he'd frantically hand over the phone and threaten to commit Frasier to an asylum if he kept taking my calls.

Frasier picked up the phone almost instantaneously. "Hi, sweetheart," he said softly.

At last I was able to relax at hearing his voice. "Oh, Frasier..." I breathed.

"God, I miss you so much."

I closed my eyes, trying to keep myself from remembering the past week, and how incredible it had been. "Yes," I whispered aimlessly, my mind drifting to how close we had been only hours before. "I mean-me too. Oh, I can't even think straight," I concluded as my eyes welled up with tears.

"Are you okay?" he asked meaningfully.

"What kind of question is that?!" I half-chuckled unbelievingly. "Are you?"

He remained calm. "I'm sorry, angel," he apologized. "I'm going to worry about you whether you like it or not, I can't help it."

"I'm fine," I answered brusquely, with the strongest voice I could muster. "If *that's* what you mean, then I'm fine."

None of us spoke, and for a moment I wondered if this week had cost us the relationship we'd been able to maintain in this long-distance fashion. Feeling awful for having snapped at him, I softened my voice and sighed. "I can't believe it's over."

"It's not," he said firmly. "Honey, it's not over. I promise-"

"I can't do this on my own," I told him, bursting into tears without warning.

Frasier was silent, in the way he always was before contemplating something important. "Lilith..." he began nervously. "I can't leave my job here right now."

"I know," I sighed impatiently. "I just-"

"But," he went on slowly. "If you wanted to come here... for a few weeks, with Frederick... until we figure out what we're going to do..." his voice trailed off, knowing it was only superfluous to continue.

My breath caught in my throat. I wanted so badly to say yes. I wanted us to be a family again, even if the promise of forever wasn't there... even a few weeks. It could all be perfect.

But somehow, I had to force myself to think otherwise. "I can't do that to him," I finally whispered. "He has no idea what's going on, Frasier. He's just a child. He's already been through one of our divorces; I can't put him through another."

Another knock on my door. "Come in," I called.

Frederick poked his head through the door. "Dinner's ready... were you asleep?"

"No, sweetheart, I'm coming," I told him, eager to avoid any more discussion on the matter. "I'll call you back," I said softly into the phone.

Frasier sighed quietly. "Just remember I love you."

"I know," I whispered, and hung up. I didn't have the luxury of being able to curl up on my bed and cry, because Frederick was still standing in the doorway. I stood up and straightened my clothes, trying to smile.

"I really missed you," Frederick said quietly.

I walked over to him and hugged him, holding him tightly as if he were still a little baby.

"And I'm sorry," he continued.

Stepping back to look at him, I began absent-mindedly fixing his shirt collar. "For what?"

He shrugged. "For whatever's going on. I just hope you don't get hurt."

I stared for a moment, then realized my still-damp eyes must have been a dead giveaway, and I wiped away the remaining tears with my sleeve. "Everything's fine, Frederick," I assured him, trying to believe it myself. "Don't you worry about me, okay? Let's go eat dinner."

He looked unconvinced. "Someone's got to take care of you."

I stared at my son, trying to take in how much he had sounded like his father when he said that. He had hit a growth spurt when he was thirteen, and he was as tall as I was now. I had no doubts that he would be towering above me before long. He had Frasier's blue eyes, and his sandy blond hair, and his beautiful smile. I didn't know what I would do without him.

"Mom?" Frederick asked. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I ruffled his hair for a moment, then pulled back, remembering that he didn't like it when I did that. "Hey, I'm supposed to be the parent," I teased him. "I'll be fine."

"All right." Frederick didn't sound too certain, but he let the subject drop. That was enough for now.

It had been an excruciating three weeks since Lilith and I said goodbye to each other in Los Angeles. We talked on the phone almost every night, but neither one of us found it in us to discuss what we were going to do about our marriage. I didn't have the strength to think about it, much less discuss it with Lilith.

I had given up hope of talking to Lilith that night. She normally called around nine o'clock my time, but it was past eleven and I hadn't heard anything from her. I had tried calling her, but the phone rang and rang without anyone picking up. I had just crawled into bed and turned off the  
lamp when the phone rang.

"Lilith?" I asked, cradling the receiver to my ear. "Are you all right?"

"I'm okay," she replied weakly. "I'm sorry I'm late. I fell asleep on the couch."

"Long day at work?" I inquired. "I know the feeling."

She blew her nose. "Unfortunately, no. I think I'm sick."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," I sympathized. "I wish I could be there to take care of you."

"I wish you were here too," she said faintly. "Although I wouldn't be much fun. I've been throwing up all day."

"Are you..." I whispered. "I mean, could you be..."

She sighed. "If you mean, am I pregnant, the answer is I don't know yet. It's too soon to tell. I'm afraid this is a good old-fashioned case of the flu."

"You take good care of yourself," I instructed her. "I don't want anything, and I mean *anything* to happen to you."

"Frederick's been taking care of that," Lilith told me. "He keeps popping in every ten minutes to see if I need anything. He's finally in bed now, but he ran himself ragged today."

I smiled. "We have a remarkable child."

"Yes, we do." Her voice was weak and tired, and I grew suddenly furious that I wasn't there to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. I could tell her that now, but it wouldn't mean anything like this. How could everything be okay? We were thousands of miles apart, for who knows how long.

"I hope you stayed home from work today," was all I found myself saying, despite the other directions in which my mind was wandering.

I heard her reach for another tissue. "No, I was there," she admitted guiltily. "I actually think I caught this from Socks."

"The new rat?"

"Yes," she averred. "He's a darling thing, but I have no idea where he's been."

I smiled to myself. She always spoke so fondly of her rats. It almost made me laugh, but I knew she took them very seriously. Then again, she took everything seriously. But I loved her for it. My thoughts drifted back to one particular rat incident years ago, when we were still married... the entire matter had concluded with us agreeing to try for another child. Gee, I wonder why my mind went there.

And then I remembered she was on the other line. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking," I apologized. "But you should really get some sleep," I added quickly, hoping she wouldn't ask what exactly I had been thinking about.

"I can't sleep," she whispered. "Frasier... this is harder than I thought."

I knew exactly what she meant. Being apart from each other. Not knowing if our marriage would end in the next several weeks. Wondering why the basis for this was whether or not we would become parents again. But I wanted her reassurance... I had to hear her say it. Otherwise I wouldn't have the courage to be bold and outrageous, which is exactly what I wanted to do. "What is?" I asked softly.

"Everything!" she blurted. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Lilith, listen to me," I went on quickly. "I don't know why this has to be so hard for us right now. Honestly, I don't know why we can't simply be together. There's something holding us back, and frankly-"

"What if this isn't right?" she interrupted.

My breath caught in my throat. Surely she didn't mean... "Lilith..." I began unsteadily.

"Maybe we're trying too hard to fight against something that isn't meant to be," she declared. And with the tone of her voice, I knew this hadn't been something she'd thought of on the spot. This had been going through her mind for weeks.

When I finally remembered how to talk, I could barely whisper. "What are you saying?"

"Maybe we should just stop for awhile," she went on with more confidence than I could believe. "Just give ourselves time to think."

I began to panic. "Think about what? Lilith, I don't have to think. All I know is that I want to be with you."

"Then why aren't you here with me right now?!"

And that's when it hit me.

She was right.

"That's what I thought," she whispered in response to my silence.

Despite how right I knew she was, I couldn't let go of this as easily as she seemed to be able to. "Please, angel... don't do this. I need you right now."

She took a deep breath. "Frasier, I would rather spend some time honestly knowing that I can't be with you, as opposed to spending the rest of my life falsely hoping that someday I can."

I wasn't sure if I was really hearing this, or if it was all a nightmare. "I..." I began. "I don't know what to..."

"A few days, even," she said softly. "Please."

I was so enraged, mainly at myself, that I couldn't even respond. I was angry that I wasn't as strong as she was about this. I felt like I was being abandoned. This wasn't how this was supposed to end. No, this wasn't ending. I was sure of that. I had to cling to that belief, at least.

At last, I spoke, now longing only to escape. "I think we should say good-night now."

Her silence immediately told me that had hurt her more than she would ever admit. But she didn't fight back, and her strength remained. "Good-night, Frasier."

"I love you," I told her desperately, and for the first time I could ever remember, she didn't respond.

We didn't say much more after that, and soon after, we both hung up. I expected her to call the next day, but she didn't. All right, she needed time to think. Two days. Well, that's Lilith, always analyzing everything over and over. Five days. I didn't know if this was a good or a bad sign.

By the time a week had passed, I was getting worried. I had tried calling her, but I either got the machine, or Frederick informing me that she had stayed late at work for the umpteenth time that week. Obviously she was avoiding me.

It began raining on Thursday morning, and by nightfall, the streets of downtown Seattle were covered in several inches of water. Dad had gone to bed early, and Daphne was over at Roz's, which gave me the perfect opportunity to sit and brood in front of the window. Selfish, yes, but at that moment, if I couldn't be happy, I didn't want anyone else to be either.

The city, having been pounded by rain for over twelve hours, didn't look any happier than I felt. The lights shone dimly through the rain. I had turned off all the lights in the living room, so the only light came from an occasional bolt of lightning. Lights were cheerful. I wasn't.

I got up to refresh my sherry glass. As I was pouring, I thought I heard a soft knock at the door. It was quickly followed by a crash of thunder, and I shrugged it off. No need to walk all the way across the room when it was most likely the storm.

I had just settled back down in my chair when the knock came again. This time, there was no doubt about the culprit. Someone was at my door. Just fantastic.

"Whoever you are, I'm not going to be much company tonight," I mumbled to myself as I walked across the room. "Who goes out on a night like this anyhow?" I opened the door.

"Lilith."

She stood before me, soaking wet, the water dripping off her coat onto the floor. "I had to come," she stated simply. "I hope you don't mind."

I took her arm and pulled her inside. "God, you must be freezing," I said, more to myself than to her. Ducking into the bathroom, I found a huge bath towel and tossed it to her. "You can dry yourself off with that."

She caught the towel, but made no effort to do anything with it. Her eyes darted around the apartment, landing on Dad's chair, the TV, the balcony...everything except me.

"Lilith, are you all right?" I asked, crossing over to her.

"Oh, Frasier," she managed to get out before she threw herself at me, sobbing hopelessly.

I squeezed her tightly. "Oh, sweetheart," I whispered. "Can't you tell me what's wrong?"

She furiously swiped at the tears with her hand. "I can't do it, Frasier," she sobbed. "I tried, but I can't."

I gripped her arm. "Lilith, you didn't..."

She shook her head. "No. Although it would make things so much easier."

"No!" I almost shouted at her, trying not to show how upset I was. "That's never the answer."

She looked up at me, tears still running down her face. "Frasier, I can't live without you. I tried, but I can't do it."

I took the towel and wrapped it around her. "What do you mean?"

She took a few deep breaths, trying to stop crying. "This last week. I spent every waking moment trying to convince myself that I would be fine without you. And I couldn't do it." She looked pleadingly at me. "I need you, Frasier."

We stared at each other blankly for a moment, wishing we could read each other's mind and, knowing that we couldn't, unable to speak even the simplest of words, fearing that they would be the wrong words. Neither of us could do anything in this moment that would make it all right. So I did all I felt I could do without losing my mind. I put my arms around her and led her back to my bedroom, silently.

Instead of surrendering to my embrace and leaning against me as she always had, she did her best to remain rigid and upright, as she shivered under the towel. When we reached my room, she stopped in the doorway, refusing to move another inch.

"Lilith?"

No response.

I nodded to myself. She wasn't going to be herself right now. I gently released her, went ahead into the room alone, and began rummaging through drawers. When I found a suitable sweatshirt and turned around, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from me. She held the towel around her, over her coat.

I went across the room and sat by her, but she continued to stare at the wall in front of us. "Honey," I began uncertainly, "can we just get you out of these wet clothes?" She nodded aimlessly and allowed me to take her towel. But when I reached for her coat, she turned to look at me with almost... surprise?

She quickly grabbed the sweatshirt from my hands, rose to her feet, disappeared into the bathroom and, in an absolutely overwhelming moment, I flipped off the light switch and collapsed on the bed. For the first minute, I stared angrily at the ceiling through the dark. Here she was; she had come to me. And now she wouldn't even let me take care of her. I felt so helpless. As a psychiatrist, one would think I'd be better equipped to handle these situations. But suddenly the logic in all theories seemed to vanish when applied to my own life.

Once my anger had a moment to subside, I then turned to a phase of shock. What had just happened here? One minute I'm in my living room, sulking pitifully and contentedly, and the next thing I know, Lilith is in my bathroom, not ten feet away. I couldn't even think, so I simply acted. I leapt off the bed and took down the covers, fluffing the pillows and arranging the blankets as best I could. At least it helped work off some of my nervous energy.

She emerged from the bathroom so quietly that I didn't even notice her until she began to leave the room. I quickly flipped on the bedside lamp and she stopped in her tracks, turning to look at me with an afghan draped over one arm. She had put on the sweatshirt, at least, which came halfway down to her knees. "Where are you going?" I asked softly.

"To the couch."

Throwing the covers off me, I stood up and went over to her. "Oh, angel no..." I whispered. "Won't you stay here with me?"

Barely having recovered from the last downpour, her eyes began welling up with tears again. "I don't even know what I'm doing here," she sobbed.

This time she allowed me to lead her over to the bed and tuck her in. I couldn't even answer her. What would I say? If *she* didn't even know what she was doing here, how in God's name was *I* supposed to know? But I crawled in beside her, aching to simply hold her until she stopped crying. But apparently she wouldn't allow that right now.

Before long she grew completely silent. I was sure she'd fallen asleep, and again, I was angry with myself. All I'd been doing for the last ten minutes was contemplating how I was going to tell her everything I was thinking. And now I would have to wait until the morning. If she was even still here by then. I hadn't even told her how much I loved her...

"What are you thinking about right now?" she suddenly asked.

I wanted to say "I love you." Instead, "Why are you here?" came out of my mouth before I could stop it.

She sighed. "I don't know why I'm here. Because it's too humid in Boston, I suppose."

I turned over so I was facing away from her. I couldn't help feeling frustrated at her, at myself, at this whole damn situation we had gotten ourselves into. "Never mind. Forget I asked."

"Oh, Frasier." Her voice softened, and I turned back around in spite of myself. "I really don't know why I'm here. Because I needed to see you, I suppose."

"Won't you please talk to me?" I asked, trying to keep the tears out of my own voice. "I hate seeing you like this."

"If I could name the single cause of everything that's wrong in my life, I would," she said softly. "But I honestly don't know what's been making me so upset lately. Although I suppose it all comes down to the fact that I can't bring myself to stop loving you."

"I know the feeling," I whispered. "But it doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"You don't understand!" she insisted, sitting up and burying her face in her hands. "Every time I see you, we have these wonderful conversations about how much we love each other. We spend incredible nights together. And every time, I go home alone. It's killing me, Frasier. I don't know how much more I can take."

"Oh, Lilith." I sat up and put my arm around her. She neither responded to or pulled away from my touch. It was as if it didn't exist.

"I tried to cut you out of my life," she went on. "This last week, I wanted to see how well I could get along without you in my life. And everywhere I went, every damn person I saw, reminded me of you in some way. And I realized that I couldn't do it. I can't live without you. Even if this is all we ever end up doing, spending the night together here and there. And even if I hate myself for it afterwards. I can't help myself. I need you."

"I never said we couldn't work this out," I insisted. "You're my wife, for God's sake. No one said we have to get a divorce."

"Right," she said listlessly. "If I'm pregnant, you'll marry me. If not, you're out of the picture. It makes me feel like you don't really want *me* at all. Just another child if we should happen to have one."

"I never said that!" I yelled in frustration. "I married you because I loved you more than life itself. Both times."

She began crying again, and I hated myself for having lost my temper. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

At last, she let me take her in my arms, and collapsed against me as she sobbed quietly. "I'm sorry too," she whispered. For what, she didn't say.

I didn't even get the chance to ask, because at that moment I heard footsteps making their way down the hall. We both looked up, staring at each other in shock. Oh, that's right, I thought sarcastically to myself. I didn't live alone.

"Frasier, would you keep it down in here?!" Dad yelled from the hall, knocking loudly on my door. "Who are you talking to?"

For a moment neither of us moved; only sat there on the bed with our arms around each other... until Lilith began to pull away. I kept hold of her hands to prevent her from leaving me entirely... and that's when the door creaked open and a hand reached in to turn on a light, soon followed by a head.

"Frasier, would you just-" He spotted Lilith first, then me. His mouth opened to say something... once, twice... no luck. But this was Dad... the power of speech never eluded him for long. "Who else do you have hiding in here?!" he exclaimed at length, his face a paradigm of horror.

I cast a glance at Lilith. She looked at me. I almost thought I saw the corners of her mouth rise slightly as she looked down. If she lost it, there was no hope for me. Dad continued to stare, evidently hoping that at any moment he would wake up.

"And you're still married?!" Dad squealed suddenly, his voice rising to levels of unprecedented shock as he pointed at her ring in bewilderment. "I thought your husband was gay!"

We stared at each other, wondering who would be the first to break down. It proved to be Lilith. All at once she burst into giggles, shocking me with her sudden mood change, and fell back into my lap, succumbing to hysterics.

"Oh, God, I sure hope he isn't," she managed to get out, setting off my own laughter as well.

Dad shook his head and backed away. "I'm going to wake up and this is all going to be a dream," he informed us.

"That's right, Dad," I affirmed between laughter. "Go to bed."

He stumbled his way out the door, readily escaping our insanity and eager to return to a world that was safe. He returned to quickly close the door, and we heard him run back to his room. Within a few minutes, our laughter had exhausted us both, and before we realized it, the room had become deafeningly quiet once again.

Lilith looked up at me, her face having returned to its more recognizably somber state. I wanted so badly to kiss her, but I had no idea if she would ever let me. So I simply lifted her up and held her in my arms like a little baby, as she rested her head against my chest.

I found her hand and began fiddling with the ring. "Has Frederick asked about it yet?"

"Not yet," she answered simply. "I don't know what I would tell him if he did."

As I touched her tear-stained cheek, she lifted her head to look at me. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you," I told her adamantly, hoping she could find it in herself to believe me. "I'm going to take care of you. We're going to work this out. All right?"

She sighed and looked away. "Frasier..."

"No, I mean it," I said, pulling her close to me. "Frederick's out of school for the summer, we can fly him out here and just stay here, all of us, until we can-"

"Frasier, stop," she pleaded softly. "What-what I told you... everything I said earlier... I'm just overreacting right now. No, really-" she went on as I tried to protest. She took a deep breath, obviously trying to find the words to tell me whatever she was thinking. "I was... this month, I was..." She stopped and sat up, peeling herself away from my embrace. "I was a few days late," she finally said. "And I thought..."

I waited for her to go on, but I soon realized she couldn't. "Lilith..." I whispered, searching for the strength to ask her.

"I bought another test, but..."

The memories of last time flooded my mind. She bought the test... but no. That flash of an instant when we had hope... but no. Everything came crashing down, again. The fear and ecstasy, again. Negative, again. And the crushing disappointment... now even worse.

I couldn't keep my face from falling. "You're not..."

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant." She shook her head. "I didn't take the test. I couldn't find the courage."

"Did you want me to be with you when you took it?" I asked quietly. My heart was pounding in my ears. There was still a chance...I could still be a father.

Lilith shook her head. "That's a sweet gesture, Frasier, but I just can't take the test right now. I hope you understand."

"Of course." I sighed. It was frustrating, not knowing, but even worse would be to know, and to be disappointed again. "So what do we do now?"

Lilith shrugged. "We wait, I suppose. Is there anything else we can do?"

"I can't think of anything." We fell into silence after that, and Lilith settled back into my arms. "So what do we do now?"

"I'll have to go back in the morning," she said quietly. "I didn't tell Frederick that I'm leaving. He's bound to be wondering where I am."

"Couldn't you call him instead?" I asked, desperate to keep her with me. "Or I can arrange for him to fly out here. He was going to visit me this summer anyhow."

She shook her head sadly. "You know it wouldn't work, Frasier."

She was right. And that was so damn frustrating. One night to spend with her, one morning to wake up with her asleep next to me...that wasn't anywhere near enough.

I reached over and took her hand, placing it over my heart and covering it with my own. "I hate saying goodbye to you," I whispered.

She sighed and settled into my embrace. "It's not forever, you know."

"I know," I whispered. "It feels like it, though."

We laid there in silence, our faces inches from each other, staring through the darkness into each others eyes. "I know what we can do," I whispered. She looked at me in a silent question, and I kissed her softly on the mouth.

She smiled at me in the darkness. "I'd like that."

* * *

Afterwards, I curled up next to Frasier, knowing that our time together was limited, and wanting to be as close to him as possible for as long as possible. I had no regrets about what we had just done. Frasier was my husband. We loved each other. There was nothing to feel guilty or regretful about.

Frasier rubbed my back gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Right now, wonderful," I whispered, kissing him again. Tomorrow would bring another painful parting, but I was getting better at delaying the gut-wrenching dread that always preceded separation. For right now, I wanted to be with Frasier, and I was.

But despite Frasier's arms around me, I found my mind wandering to the unopened box in my purse. Either way, I was afraid of finding out, but it would be easier if Frasier was there with me.

His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be sleeping like a little baby. "Frasier?" I whispered softly, watching his face.

His eyes flew open. "Yes, sweetheart?" he whispered.

"I want to take the test," I told him. "Tonight."

It was difficult to make out his reaction in the darkness, but I knew he had lost all ability to speak. For that moment, at least. Then I felt his arms tighten around me. "Are you sure?" he whispered.

"I'm sure."

We both sat up simultaneously, and I turned on a small, dim light by his desk. Without even allowing my eyes time to adjust to the light, I found my purse and began furiously digging through it. At last, I found the box, and held it in my hands so carefully as though it were a time bomb.

I looked over at Frasier, sitting on the bed, staring at me with wide eyes. I almost wanted him to tell me to stop... but I knew I wouldn't have anyhow. I wished even more for it to all be over, and for it to turn out positive... just so I wouldn't have to go through the agony of not knowing.

Evidently sensing this, he quickly rose and made his way over to me, putting his hands on my arms. "You're trembling," he whispered.

I shook my head, not knowing how to answer. "I'll be all right."

Quickly disappearing into the bathroom, I spent the first ten seconds staring at the box in my hands, unable to move. But the sooner this was over, the better. I took the test, set the timer, and escaped from the bathroom as fast as I could.

Frasier leapt up from the bed, obviously not expecting me so soon. "That-that was fast," he stammered.

I walked over slowly and sat down on my side of the bed... my side. I could almost smile. How much I wished it truly was. "It won't be ready for fifteen minutes," I explained softly.

His heart rate probably slowed to half of what it had just been at that point, thus returning to normal. I began furiously pacing the room, unable to sit still. Normally I would have allowed Frasier to hold me, but right now I couldn't stop moving or else I was sure I would lose my mind.

Before I even noticed him, Frasier had crossed the room and put his hand on my arm. "Come with me," he whispered. "I want to show you something."

He led us both out into the living room in the darkness, stumbling on end tables and couches along the way, until we were both seated in front of the television. "What is this?" I asked, smiling as I almost forgot what was going on in the bathroom down the hall.

Pushing a few buttons on the VCR, he pulled me close to him. "I found some old videos the other day when I was cleaning out my closet," he said quietly, turning on the TV.

Without warning, an image appeared on the screen. It was obviously a home video... and it didn't take me long to recognize that it was *our* home video. The blurry date appeared in the bottom right corner of the screen... December 21, 1990. Sam was holding the camera, apparently, considering there was a mirror on the wall. Rebecca was hitting him with something... what, I couldn't tell. And Frasier and I were seated on the floor around the Christmas tree, helping Frederick take his first steps.

I didn't even feel the tears streaming down my face until later. When I looked at us, all those years ago... it looked so much like it did now, and yet it was entirely different. When we touched, or kissed, or looked at each other... there was no fear that one of us would be gone the next day. There was no regret, no worry, no anxiety.

Which was when the timer rang, jolting us back to reality.

I looked at Frasier, waiting for him to hear it as well. When he did, his hand quickly found the remote and he stopped the video. Once the television was off, all was silent again. We followed each other back to his bedroom, and towards the end I quickened my pace simply to shut off the sound of that timer. All it seemed to do was shout at us, both answers at the same time... yes. No. Yes. No.

Frasier stopped in the middle of the bedroom, unable to take a step further. We both knew this was the one thing I would have to do alone. Either way, I couldn't be with him at the moment I found out.

My hands were shaking as I flipped on the bathroom light switch. My eyes half-drifted down to the sink counter where my entire future rested. I quickly focused them back on the ceiling. But they drifted again... this time a little further. But back up they went. Finally, I glanced a little too far, and saw the red mark...

A plus sign.

And déjà vu all over again-

Wait a minute.

A plus sign. Positive. It was positive.

I flung open the bathroom door, and Frasier was waiting not four feet away. I couldn't have been smiling... I was far too shocked. But there must have been something in my face that told Frasier...

"Oh my God," he whispered. We both stared, and were finally able to find our own strength enough to break into smiles. "Oh my God," he repeated.

Bursting into tears of utter elation, I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him more tightly than I ever had. He lifted me up and spun me around, before setting me back on my feet and gazing into my eyes.

Tears were streaming down my face, my heart was pounding, but this time it was perfect, and I kissed him.

"What are we going to name her?" I whispered after we finally broke apart.

"Her?" Frasier asked. "How do we know it's going to be a girl?"

"I just know it," I answered, kissing him again. "Trust me on this one."

He picked me up and carried me back to the bed, gently laying me down. "I hope you're right," he said softly. "I'd love to have a daughter. Warning's fair, though, I'm going to spoil her rotten."

He put his arms around me, and I rested my head on his chest. "Why do I put up with you?" I laughed, running my fingers through his hair.

"Because you want handsome children," he teased, giving me a kiss.

I couldn't stop smiling. "Right. My God, Frasier, we're going to have a baby!"

He hugged me so tightly that I thought for a moment I was going to suffocate. "I have never loved you as much as I do right now," he said softly.

I kissed him, and that was the end of conversation for the night.

When I woke up, sunlight was streaming in through the windows. Still half asleep, I reached over for Frasier. During our time together in California, I had revived that old, familiar habit. Usually, it led to my day starting off with crushing disappointment as I felt the cold side of the bed, and remembered where I was, and where Frasier wasn't.

Nothing. My eyes flew open in alarm...he had gone off and left me. But that didn't make sense. I was in Seattle. In his apartment. In his bed, for heaven's sakes.

The comforter was thrown back, and the sheets were rumpled. A piece of paper rested on his pillow, and I snatched it up, scanning it for some clue as to Frasier's whereabouts.

"Didn't have the heart to wake you," the note began. "I went to buy some baby toys. Be back soon. Love, Frasier."

I smiled in spite of myself, and tucked the note under my pillow. Frasier's robe was lying on a nearby chair, and I put it on, tying the belt around my waist and venturing out to the kitchen for some breakfast.

Martin was sitting in his chair, glued to a baseball game. He didn't even notice as I walked past him and into the kitchen. I poured myself some orange juice and came back into the living room. Still no sign of  
recognition from Martin.

I decided to have some fun with him. "Hello, Martin."

"Oh, hi, Lilith," he replied automatically, still staring at the TV screen. I waited patiently, sipping my juice, and sure enough, it came.

"Ahhh!" he yelled, whipping his head around to stare at me. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I smiled to myself, pretending to watch TV intently, and settled down comfortably on the couch, imitating his slouched position, and holding my glass in my right hand as he did. "I thought we'd been over this last night," I noted.

His look of horror remained. "Then it *was* real..." he declared dramatically, finishing off his beer and settling back into his chair uncomfortably. "Then what's going on?"

"Well," I began thoughtfully, "it looks to me like the Seahawks are getting their wings chopped off, so to speak," I decided, gesturing towards the television.

But before he even had a chance to roll his eyes or muster up a smart comeback, the handle on the front door turned, and was soon opened, followed by first Daphne and then Niles, both considerably disheveled and boasting the traditional American Sunday morning demeanor of laziness and contentment.

That is, of course, until they spotted me.

"Oh, hello," I smiled. As though greeting company in my own home, I rose to my feet and went over to them, relishing every moment of their horrified expressions. "Niles, good to see you again," I said cheerfully, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Frasier should be back anytime, he's out... shopping," I informed them, trying to keep my own euphoria in tow.

I stepped back, allowing them to both enter, and watched as they slowly stepped into the living room, staring at Martin, who only shrugged his shoulders, and sat down stiffly on the couch in unison.

"Well," I went on, striding across the room towards the kitchen, "I was just about to make a big breakfast for everyone. Who's hungry?"

"Um, yes, thank you," Niles finally replied absent-mindedly, while Daphne continued merely to stare. "Daphne, may I see you in your room for a moment? Or perhaps the rest of the day?"

"Certainly." Once again in unison, they rose from the couch and headed off to Daphne's room, their pace quickening with each step.

I let out an evil chuckle as I heard their door slam shut, causing Martin to glance over at me with renewed fear. "I love doing that," I smiled mischievously. "Oh, and by the way," I added nonchalantly, flashing my ring in front of his face as I leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Your son gave me that."

Without even waiting to see what kind of reaction *that* would provoke, I turned around and disappeared into the kitchen.

Frasier surprised me some minutes later by slowly slipping his arms around my waist as I was measuring salt, singing to myself. I spun around and threw my arms around his neck, and he lifted me up, carrying me into the living room. Martin had disappeared, to my relief, and Frasier was free to kiss me as he pleased, which he wasted no time in doing.

When we finally broke apart, the entire crew had reappeared at corners of the living room, unable to move. "Morning, all," Frasier called to everyone and, smiling as he turned back to me, he set me down and picked up a large bag. "Come, my sweet," he whispered, taking my hand and dragging me back to his bedroom.

I pounced on the rumpled bed and sat in impatience, grinning uncontrollably. "Show me what you got," I told him, reaching for the bag.

Frasier took it back and reached in, pulling out a tiny pair of overalls. "I thought these would work if we had a boy or girl," he told me, putting the outfit into my outstretched hands.

I turned it over in my hands, trying to comprehend that soon enough, a tiny little body would be wearing these overalls. A baby. Frasier's and my baby.

"And I was thinking we could play these when we put the baby down for a nap," Frasier continued, handing me several CDs of classical music. "They say that Mozart stimulates a growing brain."

I reached into the bag and pulled out a large, white, stuffed bear. "And how is this going to stimulate our child's development?" I teased him.

He looked embarrassed. "It won't. I just thought it was cute."

"And so it is," I agreed, setting the bear aside and curling up on the bed, resting my head in Frasier's lap. "I, for one, am hopelessly attached to my teddy bear."

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult," he exclaimed in mock indignation. He laced his fingers through mine, and I smiled up at him.

Frasier's tone turned more serious. "I made you an appointment this afternoon with Dr. Meyers," he informed me. "Niles says he's excellent."

I sat up. "Frasier, I'm fine," I insisted. "I'm a doctor too, you know."

"As am I," he insisted. "Lilith, I don't want you taking any chances."

"All right," I agreed. "What time do we have to be there?"

Frasier looked at his watch. "Two o'clock. That's not for another-"

"Two hours," I whispered, kissing him. "I suggest we make good use of that time."

He flopped down on his side of the bed, pulling me down with him. "I couldn't agree more," he whispered.

* * *

We arrived promptly at two, and finally saw Dr. Meyers at ten till three. The office was jammed, the staff looked harried, and there was nothing to read in the waiting room, once I had ruled out Cosmopolitan and  
Mademoiselle.

Lilith insisted on going in alone. "I'm a big girl," she insisted. "And it's not like you'll miss out on much. He'll tell me to eat balanced meals, take my vitamins, the usual doctor's orders."

She kissed me and followed the nurse into a back room. I settled back down into my hard, wooden chair, and out of sheer boredom, picked up the nearest magazine and began reading about the ten things that never fail to turn a man on.

Half an hour passed, and I was beginning to get worried. Just as I was asking the receptionist how long these visits usually took, Dr. Meyers came out into the waiting room.

"Frasier Crane?" he asked the room in general, and I stood up. "Hi," he said, this time directly to me, with a small smile. "Just follow me, if you will," he said quietly, leading me down a hallway. "I think you should both be together for this."

"Certainly." Oh, of course, I smiled to myself. He thought we were new parents. We would need all the instructions on how to prepare. It would be fun to humor him. And if nothing else, it would be reminiscent of old times, and wonderful to start all over again.

I reached his office where Lilith was seated in a chair. He gestured to the seat next to her and I sat down, taking her hand. She shot me that incredible smile, and I couldn't help but reach over and kiss her on the cheek.

Dr. Meyers fiddled with some papers before removing his glasses and addressing us both. "Dr. Crane, we did a few routine tests, and..." He paused, looking from Lilith to me and back again. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

I felt her hand tighten around mine.

"Dr. Sternin," he went on quietly, "home pregnancy tests aren't always the best route to take... many claim to be ninety-nine percent accurate, but if you happen to make a mistake during the test, or..."

My head was spinning. He wasn't saying what I thought he was saying. He was giving us a general lesson in home pregnancy tests. They're not always accurate. But this time they were. For us, they were. They had to be.

Assuming from our silence that we hadn't caught on, he finally continued. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "You're not pregnant."

Lilith's hand fell limp in mine, and dropped to the side of her chair. I, also having lost all ability to move, made no effort to retrieve it. Apparently she regained her senses more quickly than I did, and leapt out of her chair, running from the office.

That was all the encouragement I needed. I followed her frantically down the hallway. "Angel, just wait."

"I want to be alone," she stated, continuing down the hall. Her words came from an unfamiliar place... it was as if she wasn't really speaking them. Like it was just an answering machine.

I followed her nonetheless. "Just let me drive you home."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

I stopped walking then, and she continued, getting farther and farther away from me. Answering machine or not, I knew she meant what she said. I couldn't follow her.


	6. Chapter 6

Dulcey-Here it is. The conclusion. I hope it was worth the wait, and a big thank you to everyone who emailed with feedback. And of course, to my wonderful, insane writing partner, with whom I've shared everything from a common fondness for Sadness to a tiny, barley-infested room on West Sixty-third Street. A tip for all you travellers out there-you really can stay at the YMCA, if you don't mind pigeons pooping on the radiator at seven in the morning, or bathrooms heated to two hundred degrees or so. No, I'm not crazy. Really. Just sick, with whatever virus United Airlines contaminated me with. Bleh. On that lovely note, enjoy the story!

I spent the next few hours at the mall. I bought myself some shirts that were on sale. I went to the bookstore and hid myself in back, reading a selection of Moliere's plays. I bought a hot dog at the food court. I saw a movie.

The purpose was to distract myself from the bitter disappointment of that afternoon, but no matter where I went, or where I tried to hide, I couldn't escape from my thoughts. My mind, which I valued so highly, had taken on a life of its own, and made me a prisoner in the process.

I returned to my apartment, hoping to find her there waiting for me. No such luck. Dad was there, however, and began barraging me with questions the moment I walked in the door. I answered them shortly, hoping he would get the message and leave me alone. Which showed just how little I really knew  
my father.

"For God's sake, Dad, give it up!" I finally exploded. "Don't you have a life of your own?"

"This is my fault?" he yelled back. "Look, Frasier, I care about you. I just want you to be happy."

I sighed. "Well, then leave me alone for the evening," I begged. "Please, Dad."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but something in my face must have stopped him. "All right," he said instead, getting up and taking his coat off the rack. "I'll be over at Duke's if you need me."

After he left, the apartment was too damn quiet. I put on Dvorak at full volume and collapsed on the sofa to wait for Lilith's return.

I awoke a few hours later. The CD must have run out, because the apartment was silent. The only noise came from the faint drizzling of rain outside on the balcony. I went into the kitchen and looked at the clock. Twelve thirty. Lilith still wasn't back.

Panic began surging up in me, and I tried desperately to hold it back. Perhaps she had gone back to Boston. It hurt to think that she would leave without a goodbye, but if she did, at least she was safe.

I didn't want to think about the other possibilities.

I picked up the phone and called the airlines. None of them had had a passenger named Lilith Sternin on any of their flights to Boston.

She must still be in Seattle," I told myself. I got my car from the garage, and spent the next two hours combing the city. No luck.

By this time, I was frantic. The only thing I could think of was to check the emergency rooms in all the hospitals. The first two, there was no sign of her. On my way to the third, I missed my exit and ended up at the beach.

I rarely came here, for the reason that Seattle's miserable weather made the cost a poor shadow of the sunny sands of California. The beaches of the Pacific Northwest were wet and brooding. Which was exactly what I was looking for that night.

The beach was lit by moonlight, and by the lights of the parking lot. As I climbed down the stairs, I saw I wasn't alone. A small, solitary figure was huddled up on top of a nearby dune.

I caught my breath, not knowing if she had seen me. She continued to stare out at the waves pounding the shore, and I stared at her. Despite all my years of school, and of training as a psychiatrist, I had no idea what to say to her.

"You can sit down if you want," she said suddenly, not taking her eyes away from the ocean. "I won't bite."

I scrambled up the dune. I wanted badly to take her in my arms, but her body language me told me that she wasn't in the mood for anything of the sort. It didn't matter. I was just relieved to see her safe.

"I saw a movie, a long time ago, where a man drowned himself by walking out into the ocean," she said matter-of-factly. "That was the last scene. I never saw if it worked or not."

Breathe, Frasier, I told myself, fighting the overwhelming surge of panic. "Lilith, you didn't..."

"Of course I didn't!" she exclaimed in exasperation. "If I had, would I be sitting here now?"

I sat down about two feet away from her, hugging my knees to my chest. I couldn't even let my eyes look at her; I knew that if I did, I wouldn't be able to keep that two feet of distance between us. "You're not being fair," I announced resentfully, angry more at myself for not knowing how to fix this, and I felt her eyes upon me. "You make little comments about doing these crazy things," I went on, "and then when I start to worry, you get upset."

She continued to stare at me, but I remained facing the ocean. "Why shouldn't I?" she asked smugly. "If I was going to do something to myself, I wouldn't want someone to talk me out of it."

"Sure you would," I answered quickly, readily accepting the potential psychological debate at hand. It was something to keep our minds off the other hundred matters that plagued us, if nothing else. "If you didn't want me to stop you, you wouldn't mention it so often as you do."

Sensing that she had looked away, I finally turned to look at her. But sure enough, she was still staring at me... staring as if she'd never seen me before. Our eyes met for a split second before she turned back to the sea. I couldn't help but watch her, so intently. She wasn't crying... though I'm sure she had been. No doubt there now weren't any tears left to cry.

But she was so exquisite. Her silhouette against the moonlight was like a great painting. I wanted to know how someone so radiant and beautiful could have been inflicted with all the pain I knew she suffered from. How someone with such passion, such devotion, could ever hurt so much.

"I'm leaving early in the morning," she said.

No... no, oh God, no. My fingers dug into the sand. "Please don't," I begged her.

It was as if she hadn't heard a word. "I want to give you something," she went on, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a fat white envelope. "I hadn't been able to get rid of this," she said, trying not to let the anxiety in her voice seep through. "But I've decided now that I'll never do anything to myself," she went on softly, "and I'm giving this up to prove it, instead of holding onto it as my ever-present escape route."

She held out the envelope to me. My eyes darted from her frightened eyes to her trembling hands, and the envelope... the hotel name and logo appeared in the corner. My heart leapt. This was from Chicago. "You-" My voice caught in my throat. "You said you threw it out."

"I lied," she replied calmly. "But I wanted you to read it... so maybe you can understand some things about me."

Her outstretched hand was inches away, but I couldn't move. I was so scared to see what she had written... in a state of mind when she didn't expect to be around an hour later, I couldn't have imagined what she'd have had to say to me.

"Please," she whispered.

I felt my hand move on its own to take the envelope from her hands.

* * *

I stepped away from him. "I'm going to go take a walk down there," I said quietly, pointing to further down the beach, where a small stream flowed into the ocean. "Come join me when you're finished reading."

Before he could react, I spun around and walked off down the beach, my shoes sinking ever so slightly into the wet sand. No matter what, I didn't want to see his reaction when he read that letter. I was feeling better than I had been earlier, but still...any wrong words, any horrified expression, and I could easily go back on what I had just promised to him.

I walked until Frasier was a tiny dot in the distance, barely visible in the moonlight. It seemed to me that I had gone far enough, so I sat down on a rock to wait for him. It seemed like an eternity. And I was terrified.

I'd never told him that I'd gotten pregnant shortly after we first moved in together. My mother had always told me, men will say they love you, but when you get into trouble, they won't hesitate to run out the door. Frasier had evaded the question of marriage whenever I brought it up. If I told him, I didn't know if he would stay.

And I was young. I had just finished my residency and was finally about to start on my own as a psychiatrist. I wasn't ready to give up those years of hard work to become a full-time, single mother. Which was selfish, I knew, but the last thing I wanted to do was sacrifice my dreams, and then nag my  
child about that for her entire life, like my mother had done to me.

So I did the only thing I could think of. I made an appointment with a women's clinic, and took an afternoon off of work. The whole procedure lasted less than two hours, and was relatively painless, but I was surprised how empty I felt in the weeks afterwards. I was free again, to be a doctor and to live with my boyfriend without worry, but I never forgot the life I had so casually ended that sunny March afternoon.

Frasier never knew. How could I tell him? It's not an easy thing, to tell the man you love that you murdered your child. I wrote about it in my letter because it hadn't seemed to matter at the time. Hardly anything matters when you plan on being dead soon. I wondered Frasier could ever forgive me for what I had done. I could never forgive myself.

I turned my gaze away from the sea to see Frasier striding towards me. My heart caught in my throat, and I put my head down. He was angry at me. I just knew it. I closed my eyes, waiting for the explosion.

And there was nothing. I slowly gathered up my courage and looked up at Frasier, who was standing beside me. Tears were running down his cheeks, and he held out his arms to me. I threw myself into them and we stood there, crying together on the deserted beach.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered into his shirt collar. "You must hate me for this."

He peeled himself away from me and put his hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes. "Lilith, I could never hate you," he stated, gently and firmly. "You were scared, and you did what you had to do."

"That's why I wanted another child," I whispered. "I thought it would somehow make up for what I did."

He put his arms around me again. "Please stay for the weekend," he said softly. "You shouldn't be alone with this."

I opened my mouth, and he cut me off before I could say a word. "Please," he insisted. "For me."

"For you," I echoed. "All right. I'll stay."

We leaned against each other as we trekked back to the car. I managed to lift my head and look around us, taking in the cool sea air, and all at once it hit me... how much like Los Angeles this was. It was as if we were reliving that night all over again, our last night there... except this time it was far more depressing. If that was even possible.

I remembered how we'd walked along that beach... discouraged, yes, but not entirely without hope. There had still been that little possibility that we would become parents again. Even the prospect of it was enough to keep us going.

But now... now we had nothing. I hadn't expected to find out this soon. I'd hoped for at least another couple months before the fact was set in stone that we were getting a divorce. The thought was enough to make me want to go back on what I had promised Frasier only minutes ago... but I knew I couldn't. Somehow, we would find our way through this. We had to.

In another painful parallel to Los Angeles, Frasier and I never went to sleep that night. Which was shocking, considering how exhausted we both were. The first couple hours we didn't even lie down. We merely sat there on the bed, curled up against pillows in the dark, holding onto each other as if our lives depended on it.

In this case, mine practically did.

We had been so equally silent since we left the beach. I don't think either one of us had said a single word. There was nothing left to say now.

Frasier, however, felt differently. "It's not too late," he whispered, breaking the hour-long silence.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that we could start over, that we could try for another child again. But I couldn't go through another experience like this. I couldn't keep hoping, and then be disappointed. There was no way I would ever make it through something like that again. I wanted to explain all that to him, but all that came out was, "Yes, it is."

His grip tightened on me. "We can still try," he insisted.

I turned my head around to stare up at him. "It wasn't meant to be," I whispered.

Whether he agreed with me or not, I didn't know, and it was probably irrelevant anyhow. "Where does this leave us?" he asked the darkness in general. I wasn't even sure if I should answer; it hardly even felt as though the question were directed at me.

"It leaves us here," I answered simply.

"What changed your mind?" he asked suddenly, as I strove to determine what he was referring to. I followed his gaze to the dresser, where his jacket lay... and a fat white envelope poked out of the pocket.

Oh. That.

I tried to keep my voice relatively stable. "I was watching you sleep," I began. "And..." This was as far as I got before I had to start choking back the tears. "And I saw Frederick's face in yours... God, Frasier, he gets more like you every day."

"How's he been lately?" Frasier asked wistfully. "I hate missing out on so much of his life."

"He's fine," I assured him, trying to smile. "He's worried about me, though."

Frasier took my hand in his. "As am I," he said softly.

I wanted to take away that awful, tortured, worried look in his eyes. "I promised I wouldn't hurt myself," I said softly, trying to reassure him.

Frasier gripped my hand tightly. "I'm glad you did," he whispered.

"I don't know what I was planning on doing tonight," I told him quietly. "I wandered all over Seattle, and then I came to the beach, and suddenly it hit me that my dying wouldn't solve anything. All it would do is devastate you and Frederick, and I never wanted that to happen."

Frasier opened his mouth to speak, but I put a finger to his lips. I needed to say this, and if I was interrupted now, I didn't know if I would ever be able to finish.

"I've been carrying around this guilt for so many years," I continued. "And to be honest, I don't know if I can just let go of it and forgive myself. But I can't go on like this. I can't keep making myself more and more unhappy. And I realized that I can keep fighting the way things are, or I can look beyond the edge, and see what's there. And I did that tonight, and I saw what was there, and I chose to accept it."

Frasier gathered me in his arms, and I curled up against him, feeling comforted by the warmth of his body against mine. "I won't lie to you," I whispered. "It hurts like hell to know that I'll never have another child. To know that not only have I lost that child, but I'll lose you as well. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have Frederick, but thank God I do. I want to see him grow up. I want to see him get married, and have children of his own. I want him to be happy, and I want to be there to see him be happy. That's why I gave you the letter tonight. Because I don't want to hurt myself anymore."

Frasier held me tightly, and buried his face in my shoulder. Tears streamed down his face, and I put my arms around him. "I didn't mean to make you cry," I whispered.

He lifted up his tear-stained face to mine. "You don't know how much it means to hear that," he said hoarsely. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"I know," I whispered. We held onto each other tightly, and finally fell asleep.

Lilith wouldn't let me take her to the airport on Sunday morning. She wouldn't even let me kiss her goodbye. I put my arms around her, and out of what seemed like courtesy, she hugged back for a moment before pulling away. We had both slowly moved in for a final kiss, but as we got closer, she stopped, put her hand up to my face, and pressed her lips to my cheek for a brief, wonderful moment. And then she was gone.

So, at the risk of upsetting her even more, I hopped into my car five minutes after she left and sped my way to the airport. With the advantage of not having any bags to check in, I was at her gate before she was, and when she saw me, I couldn't tell if she was glad or not.

The night before, under the spell of some sort of numbing daze, we had both managed to discuss our plans for the future. They were unlike most couples' plans for the future. They weren't about getting our own house and moving to the country, or saving for our children's college fund, or buying that cottage on the lake in a few years. No... our plans were for divorce. When, whose side of the country, etc.

Having decided on Boston, we called around and couldn't even get a court date until two months from now. Neither one of us commented on whether that was a relief or not. It was only more time to suffer, I suppose, so how could it be? Then again, life after it was over was likely to be even more excruciating.

It probably didn't help the fact that the last thing in the world I wanted to do was divorce her.

But we were too scared. And we were taking the easy way out. We were giving up. Deep down, I was afraid that the efforts of trying to work this out would have pushed her to go back on her promise to me. But when I thought about it... I could only imagine what a divorce would drive her to.

Then again, maybe she would forget me. People go through phases in their lives. Maybe she was going through one. Mid-life crisis and all that. Maybe I was just a temporary life preserver at a time when she needed someone... anyone. I couldn't decide whether I was glad or sorry it was me.

I almost laughed at myself for thinking that. She was in love with me... that was all there was to it. And here I was hoping, for her sake, that she would move on from that. How could I ever wish that?

Perhaps out of sheer surprise, she dropped her suitcases at one end of the gate and walked over to me, slowly.

"I didn't want to say goodbye like that," I told her.

She leaned forward, her face devoid of expression, and lightly brushed my lips with hers as the final boarding call went out. "Goodbye, Frasier," she whispered above the intercom.

Upon retrieving her suitcases, she boarded the walkway without even a last glance in my direction. I looked after her even after she disappeared, hoping, somehow...

Shocking me considerably, she reappeared, walking at a steady pace, towards me... she was coming towards me. She was getting closer. I could smell her perfume. And then her lips were on mine, and we were sharing the same breath, the same spirit, the same square design on the carpet.

I'm surprised the plane hadn't already left and arrived in Boston by the time we finally pulled away from each other, which felt like years later... what magical, glorious years they were, though. She looked at me once more, left my embrace, and started down the walkway for the second time.

She didn't come back.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, I allowed myself to slide into a depression. I didn't feel up to going into the lab, so I took a month's vacation time, and lounged around the house all day in my bathrobe. I couldn't analyze the data my lab had been collecting. I couldn't work on my book. The only thing that seemed to help in the least was watching movies. It didn't matter what they were about, as long as they weren't romances. I couldn't stand that everything worked out for the characters when my own love life was such a mess.

Frederick was busy with school, and his friends. He had been cast in the fall musical, and spent most of his afternoons at rehearsals. Because I rarely saw him, I naively assumed that he was ignorant of everything that had been going on. Apparently, I was mistaken.

I was curled up on the couch, watching Thelma and Louise for the second time that week when I was interrupted by my son. It was past eleven, and I had thought he had gone to bed for the night.

"Mom?" I turned to see him standing at the foot of the stairs, in his rumpled pajamas and looking younger than his fourteen years. "Are you all right?"

I forced the corners of my mouth into a painful smile. "I'm fine, Frederick. I'm just watching a movie."

Frederick came over and sat by me on the couch. "You don't seem fine. You've been really sad lately."

"Why do you say that?" I tried to keep my voice casual, but it took a lot to fool Frederick. He was like his father that way.

"You just seem depressed, that's all," he commented. "Does it have something to do with Dad?" I couldn't speak, but the expression on my face told him everything. My son got up quickly. "I'd better get to bed now."

I shook my head. "No, Frederick, you're right." My mind was racing. How much should I tell him? Too little, and he would think I was lying to him. Too much, and well, I didn't know how he would handle it.

"Something happened at the conference, didn't it?" Frederick asked. "You seemed really different after you came back. And you were wearing that ring."

I automatically covered my left hand with my right. I hadn't thought he had noticed. I sighed. "Yes, Frederick, something did happen. Your father gave me this ring."

He looked confused. "What for?"

Oh, God, how was I supposed to put this? "Well, Frederick, one night, your father and I had a little too much to drink. And you know how some people tend to act impulsively when they've had too much alcohol."

Frederick grinned. "Like that time you wanted to take the stripper home?"

I didn't even want to know who had told him that. Probably Carla. She could never resist telling a story like that one. "Sort of. But this time I was with your father, and we…" I took a deep breath. "We got married."

Frederick's jaw dropped. "You and Dad are *married*?"

I nodded. "That's right."

"Then why isn't he here now?" There it was. The question I had been dreading.

"Because we didn't think we could work things out." It was literally painful to say that. "When your father comes to visit next week, we're going to get a divorce, and everything will be like it was before."

Which was a blatant lie. No matter how things worked out, one thing was for certain. Frasier and I would never be the same people we once were.

"That's so stupid!" Frederick exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "You never even tried to make it work! You're always telling me never to give up unless you give it a fair try first. And I think it's dumb to wreck our chances of being a family again because you're afraid to try!"

He ran up to his room and slammed the door. I flopped back down on the couch and turned off the TV, having lost all interest in the movie. A few tears trickled down my face in spite of myself.

I wanted Frasier. And he wasn't here.

I let a few minutes pass before flipping off the downstairs lights and climbing the stairs. Standing in front of Frederick's door, I knocked softly. "Frederick?"

There was no sound, so he couldn't have had his music on. And the light crept out from under the door, so he couldn't have been asleep. He was just angry with me. "I'm sorry, Frederick," I said quietly into the door, feeling another tear slide down my face. "I'm sorry you have to go through this again. It's bad enough that your father and I both have to get hurt, but having it affect you is even worse."

The door opened, which I hadn't expected in the least... for all I knew, he could have had his Discman on. He stood there in front of me, and I knew he'd heard every word. "I'm sorry," he told me. I hugged him and, to my relief, he let me.

"Come on, let me tuck you in," I said, trying not to sniffle.

"Mom, I'm not a baby," he whined.

"Well, I'm still your mother," I tried to smile, kissing him on the cheek. I sat on the edge of the bed as I tucked the covers around him. "Good-night, sweetheart."

He squashed his pillow into a ball and curled up against it, just like his father did. "Night, Mom."

As I left his room for my own, I thought about the last time I had talked to Frasier on the phone. It was nearly a week ago. Last time I saw him, I'd told him I'd tried to live without him and couldn't do it. I tried to go a week without talking to him once, and it nearly killed me. And now... we had spoken on the phone three times since I left Seattle a month ago. Each time was more agonizing and less personal than the last. The day of our divorce was impending, and as much as we knew we loved each other, I think we were both doing our very best to forget we'd ever met.

Once tucked into my bed, I turned off the light and felt around for the phone. He was still on my speed dial. Amazingly enough, he had been since he left Boston nine years ago. He would probably always be.

"Hello?"

I held my breath for a moment, noticing how we never predicted each other's calls anymore... seeing as how few and far between they had become. "Hi," I answered.

It was almost impossible to tell if he was ecstatic or upset that I had called. "Hi," he breathed after a pause. No cute nicknames, no comments on how good it was to hear my voice... I knew those days had passed. I never thought they would.

"I hope I'm not calling too late," I added cordially, wondering how in God's name we had become so detached in so little time.

"It's only seven here," he reminded me.

Of course it is, Lilith. I felt like such an idiot. "Right." And now what should I move on to? The weather? Not that that would be much interest to him, considering he was on the other side of the country. "I wanted to tell you something," I blurted, leaping right to the point.

His voice softened. "Oh?"

I allowed a pause as I contemplated how he must have interpreted that. He probably thought I was calling to say I was pregnant.

Too late, Frasier. Too late.

"Frederick knows," I said simply.

"Oh, God," he groaned. "How did he find out?"

I shrugged. "He figured it out for himself. He's a bright kid."

"Is he all right?" Frasier asked quietly. "He didn't get too upset, did he?"

"He'll be all right," I replied. "He was upset at first, but I think he'll come to terms with this."

"Well, that's a relief."

The politeness and formality of our conversation made me want to scream. It was like talking to the boy who bagged my purchases down at the grocery store. "Is this how we're going to be now?" I demanded. "We sound like strangers!"

"Well, how do you want it to be?" he retorted. "We're getting divorced next week, Lilith. It's sad, but it's true. Do you really want me to tell you how much I love you? Because I will, if you want me to. I'll stay on this phone all night and list every little thing I love about you. But it would break my heart, and I think it would break yours as well."

I wiped away a tear. "Of course not. I just hate how far apart we've grown."

"Me too," he whispered. "I can't believe it's only a week away."

One week. Our court date was set for ten o'clock on Friday morning. Frasier was flying in the night before, and despite my invitation for him to stay here, was staying in a hotel. I had taken down the calendar in the kitchen, because every time I passed it, the ever-shrinking number of days to our divorce brought on a wave of nausea.

But I had to keep going. I had promised Frasier.

Our conversation had come to another standstill. "So when does your flight get in?" I asked. I knew perfectly well that it got in at eight. Frasier knew that I knew that his flight got in at eight. It didn't matter. This was safe conversation, and despite the monotony of it, I felt comforted just by hearing his voice.

We chatted for the next ten minutes, until I couldn't stand it anymore. "I've got to go," I said abruptly, interrupting Frasier's account of his evening.

He took no notice of my rudeness. "I suppose you need your sleep."

"Yes," I agreed. "Yes, I do."

"I'll see you next week," he said quietly. "Take care of yourself."

"And you," I replied. Anything to get this over with so I could hang up and cry myself to sleep. "Well, then, goodbye."

"Goodbye," he echoed. "Oh, Lilith?"

"Yes?" I whispered, so softly I wasn't sure if he heard me.

"I always loved how you arranged your books alphabetically," he said, laughing softly.

I had to smile. "Thank you, Frasier."

"Well, goodnight, then," he said quietly.

"Goodnight," I repeated. He hung up, and I sat there, the receiver still at my ear.

"I love you, Frasier."

My flight was short and uneventful, which I suppose is better than being long and uneventful. Through means that were beyond me, I had managed to doze off sometime during their description of oxygen masks. My plane left the next evening after our court appearance. I couldn't believe that in only twenty-four hours, I would be back in Seattle... single.

I only had my small carry-on suitcase with me, and I sat quietly in my seat while the rest of the passengers bustled past me in the aisles. I had agreed to meet Lilith at the house early the next morning, so I could see hello to Frederick before he left for school. I planned to pick him up afterwards and take him out... a father/son thing. Frankly, I didn't know how I would be able to handle anything of the sort after the morning we will have had. But I wanted to spend time with my son, and that was the important thing.

So, naturally, I was somewhat surprised, if not completely startled, to see Lilith waiting for me at my gate. She didn't exactly look like she was waiting for me, though... the flight was so large that they actually had two exit doors. Her eyes were peeled to the one that happened to be not mine.

Doing my best to blend into the crowd, I stumbled my way through the rest of the people until I was standing directly behind her. I placed one arm on her shoulder and she spun around. We couldn't have even looked at each other for more than a second before we were wrapped up in each other's kiss.

She pulled away suddenly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, gathering herself together. "I know I shouldn't have come."

"But I'm so glad you did," I told her.

In silence, we rode the shuttle to concourse A, taking us out to the parking lot. We didn't say much on the drive to the hotel. I could tell she was exhausted-from what, I wasn't sure-so I insisted on driving. I kept one hand on the wheel and one hand on her knee the entire time. Her hand clasped over mine, and we listened to the rain drizzling down softly around the car.

I felt her gaze upon me, and I looked over at her. "Are you okay?" I asked her.

She smiled weakly, looking away and tightening her hand around mind. "Sure."

"I'm here," I told her.

Nodding thoughtfully, she turned back to me and stared into my eyes. "Yes... yes, you are."

I knew there was something she wasn't telling me... oh, what a joke. There were probably a thousand things she wasn't telling me. And would never tell me. About how she felt regarding the entire matter. About how much it hurt her.

But something was different about her. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that we hadn't said 'I love you' to each other in over a month. To say it now... would be like tearing down on the wall of apathy we had built up in recent weeks. And tearing that down would keep us from going through what we had to do in the morning.

Halfway through the ride, she moved the cup holder from in between the seats, and lay down with her head in my lap. I stroked her hair, and we didn't say another word until we got to the hotel.

"I'll see you in the morning," I told her as she relocated to the driver's seat and rolled down the window. She nodded, and I kneeled down in front of the window and rested my chin on the edge. As she leaned over to kiss my forehead, and I saw tears building in the corners of her eyes.

I had to ask her, even though I knew what the answer would be. "Do you want to come up?" I whispered.

"I can't."

I nodded and watched her drive off, before entering the lobby and taking the elevator up to my room.

Three hours later, as I lay in bed with a dim beside lamp, trying to read, a knock came on my door. As I rose to respond to it, I noted how, from previous experience if nothing else, I knew-or at least hoped-that it had to be her.

And it was.

She strode confidently into my room, sitting down in a nearby chair. "Hello, Frasier," she greeted me professionally. "Nice place you have here."

I shrugged. "Yes, I suppose. To tell the truth, I haven't been paying much to my surroundings."

A trace of sadness flickered across her face, but vanished before I could be completely sure. "I came to ask you a favor," she began.

I nodded. "What can I do for you?"

Her self-confidence vanished, and she slumped down in the chair, staring at the pattern on the carpet. White diamonds on a red background. I should know. I had been examining it ever since I checked in.

"I was wondering if you could stay here with Frederick for a few weeks," she said quietly. "I was hoping to take some time off, get away and do some thinking."

I nodded again. "I'd love to," I answered softly.

"Thank you," she whispered, standing up. "I'll let you get back to your reading now."

"No, please, stay," I insisted. "I could use the company."

She searched my face, attempting to determine if I was being sincere, or just polite. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," I answered emphatically. "Hotel rooms are always so lonely and impersonal."

A seductive smile crept across her face. "They don't have to be."

It took everything I had not to kiss her right then and there. Lilith must have noticed my terrified expression, because she looked contrite. "I'm sorry," she apologized.

I laid back down on the bed and held out my arms to her. "Come here," I said softly.

She didn't wait for any further invitation. She flung herself into my embrace and pressed her forehead to mine. Tears began welling up in her eyes, and she blinked furiously, vainly attempting to keep them from  
spilling out. "I'm going to miss this so much," she whispered.

What could I possibly say to that? "Me too," I said softly.

She began tugging at her left ring finger, and succeeded in pulling off her ring, which she placed in my hand. "You should take this back," she said quietly. "It's not right that I keep wearing it."

I put the ring back into her hand and closed her fingers around it. "I bought it for you, and I want you to keep it," I insisted. "You can do anything you want with it, wear it, throw it out, keep it in a drawer, but it's yours to do with as you please."

"Are you sure?" She clutched the ring tightly, as if she were afraid I would change my mind and snatch it out of her fingers.

"Positive." I gently took the ring and slid it back onto her finger. "To tell the truth, it's all I'm sure of at this point.

She took my hand in both of hers, slowly kissing each of my fingertips. I watched her, enthralled, knowing that this would likely be the last time I would ever be allowed to be this close to her. After tomorrow, we would do our best to avoid any more one-night stands or near-kiss experiences... for our own sakes, we would tell each other.

I touched her cheek softly, tracing her nose with my finger, studying every single detail about her face as a blind person might do when trying to imagine how someone must look.

"How do you do that?" she whispered.

"Do what?"

Her eyes stared into mine, as if seeing right through my soul. "Look at me like you've never seen me before."

How could I even explain it? Every time I saw her it was as if it were for the first time. Every time I noticed something different about her, and now I strove so hard to take in everything at once. How that one rebellious curl fell down into her eyes whenever she lowered her head. How the top buttons on her blouse just seemed to undo themselves randomly, resulting in an almost irresistible temptation. How her warm breath felt against my face, and how it smelled of mint and strawberries...

And this was the last time I would ever be able to experience any of it.

"Where?" I found myself suddenly asking. "When you get away and do some thinking," I explained. "Where are you going?"

She looked down, nervously plucking at a wrinkle in my shirt. "I don't know. Maybe Paris."

The memory from Chicago struck me. How I told her I'd wanted to go back to Paris someday, but that I would never do so without her. And now she was going there. Without me. How terribly excluded I felt. It was angering, to myself, to think that she could accept the fact that we couldn't be together, and it seemed that I couldn't.

How could I? She was my wife. I loved her, hopelessly.

"Will I ever see you again?" she asked desperately.

"What a ridiculous question," I tried to chuckle, dodging her expectant gaze. "You're the mother of my son. I think it's inevitable that we run into each other now and then."

Her eyes remained fixated on me, and I envied her courage. "Then that's it," she said, and I couldn't tell whether or not it was a question.

I finally looked at her, briefly, simply to prove that I could, and quickly glanced away. "Well, what do you expect?" I asked curtly. "I'm sorry we have to go through this. But apparently we do. It's not fair, but it's the truth."

My words shocked even me.

She continued to stare, obviously in hopes that it would bring my eyes back to hers. At last, she succeeded, and we were able to look at one another. I half-expected her to get up and leave. She had every reason to. But not even that could have hurt more than her ensuing words.

"I've lost my best friend," she informed me.

My eyes began to sting with tears. "No," I breathed. "No..." Anything but that. I lifted her up as effortlessly though she were a small, limp puppy, pulling her to me. She didn't return my embrace, but stayed there wrapped in my arms. But after a few moments, my heart leapt to feel her hand on the back of my neck.

I pulled away just enough to stare into her eyes, which were wide with apprehension. I had no idea what she was doing and, unsure even of what *I* was doing, I leaned forward and kissed her neck softly.

"Frasier..." she whispered.

Pulling back until my face was nearly touching hers, I waited. Waited for a sign, of encouragement, of reprehension, of anything. But there was nothing.

I lifted my hand from the pillow, perhaps the slightest of all possible movements, and our lips touched... though just barely. But neither of us pulled away. That's when I felt her other hand on my arm.

My voice, scarcely audible even to myself, found its way out of my mouth. "Do you want to stop?"

She shook her head, and covered my lips with her own. "I don't care if it hurts in the morning," she whispered. "I want this."

"Are you sure?" I asked, still breathless from her kiss.

"More than anything," she assured me. She reached over to the nightstand and turned off the light, and then there was darkness. She was darkness and I was darkness and there had never been anyone else but us, or anything else but her lips on mine.

* * *

I awoke early the next morning, as the first light of day was beginning to filter in through the curtains. Next to me Frasier was sleeping. I turned over onto my side and watched him sleep, desperately trying to hold on to every moment that slipped by.

After today, I would never be able to look at him this way. As his lover. As his wife. I would still see him from time to time, as he had said last night, I was still the mother of his child. I would have almost preferred never to see him again. To make polite conversation when we had once poured our hearts out to each other, to shake hands when we had shared all those passionate nights together...it hurt just to think about it.

But I could never let this happen again. Losing Frasier the first time had been difficult. The second time was proving excruciating. And despite my promise, I knew that a third time would kill me.

I reached over and gently fingered Frasier's pajama sleeve. Blue silk, very soft. Tiny bits of stubble dotted his chin, and I knew from experience that it felt pleasantly scratchy when he kissed me. Lying there in the early morning light, it seemed almost possible to believe that we weren't getting a divorce that day, that we had an entire lifetime of tomorrows in front of us, instead of a mere six hours.

There would be a long conversation when Frasier woke up, filled with apologies and tearful words and regrets that everything had worked out this way. Suddenly, I didn't have the energy for it. It would take every bit of strength I had to stand there in that court and tell the world that no, I didn't love Frasier, and yes, I wanted to divorce him. I would be lucky to make it through the entire thing without breaking down. And if I was to accomplish that much, I would need to save my strength.

I slipped out of bed and quietly got dressed. I scribbled a note to him on the hotel stationary (Why did that seem familiar?), and left the room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

My watch read close to six thirty when I slipped through my front door, doing my best to remain inconspicuous and silent, setting my purse on the couch. Frederick would still be asleep, and with any luck, he'd never know I'd even been gone, I hoped to myself as I flipped on the living room light.

Frederick was sitting on the couch, dressed for school, bookbag slung over one shoulder.

He eyed me for a moment, trying to take in the disheveled state of my attire and hair, the obvious lack of sleep that reflected in my eyes, and my shocked expression.

"What-what are you doing?" I stuttered.

He rolled his eyes and brushed past me to the door. "Never mind, I'll walk."

His school was four miles away, and there was no way I would allow for that. I took his arm. "Frederick, it's only six thirty, what are you even doing up?"

"Oh, *mom*," he whined, dropping his bag on the floor. "I thought you were going to get a new battery for that watch!"

My eyes fell on the digital clock resting on the living room end table. Eight forty-five. Oh, God. He was already late to his first class. "Oh, sweetheart..." I began, desperately apologetic, "I'm so sorry..."

He stared at me vacantly, provoking me to unbearable guilt, I quickly snatched up my purse from the couch and ushered him out to the car. For the first few seconds we rode in silence. I couldn't decide how to explain why I wasn't there to take care of him, to make him his breakfast and take him to school like the responsible parent I prided myself on being. How was I supposed to tell him I'd elected instead to have a last one-night stand with his father before we ended our relationship forever in divorce?

"Where have you been?" he finally asked me, though I knew perfectly well that he knew the answer, and he knew that I knew. "I was starting to get worried."

"I was out," I told him simply, going for the obvious.

He turned back to the front. "Thanks, I never would have guessed."

"Frederick, I don't need this right now," I stated, my voice growing strict.

There was a silence, during which I let myself relax, assuming that he was obedient enough to let the matter be. Obviously, I was wrong. "You were with Dad, weren't you?"

"What happens between your father and me is not your concern," I snapped, unable to allow the subject of Frasier to be explored in any way.

"Oh, of course not, I'm only your son!" he exclaimed.

His words were enough to keep me blinking back the tears for the rest of the ride, and when we arrived at the school I didn't lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek as I always had, and he was quick to escape from the car. His friend Joe winked at me from a distance, as he always did-lecherous child that he was-but I didn't find myself fighting back a smile, as I always had in the past.

Arriving back at the empty house was torturous. I felt as though the day should be coming to a close by now, but instead the sunlight was just beginning to stream through the windows as the new day presented itself. I stood in living room against the wall for several minutes, growing increasingly tense and uneasy. I wanted to go back to Frasier's hotel room. I hated the fact that I'd left without even saying goodbye. I wanted to spend every last moment I could with him.

But this thought only made me feel faint, and sick to my stomach, and before I even knew it, I had toppled over onto the floor.

I awoke some minutes later to find myself on the living room rug, shocked to discover that I had actually fainted. This had happened a couple times during my years at medical school, but was highly rare under any other circumstances. Even the overwhelming stress of the impending day's events didn't seem enough to incite such a reaction.

Considering I had several hours ahead of me before the event that would change my life forever, I decided to stop in at the doctor's office to assure myself I was being paranoid over nothing.

* * *

I slowly felt myself drifting back to consciousness. I shut my eyes tightly against the too-bright sunlight, unwilling to wake up to the day I had been dreading for months. I reached out for Lilith, and when I found only bedclothes, that was enough to make me sit up and look around the room. No doubt about it, the bed was empty. A further exploration of the room found that her clothes were gone as well. I began pacing around the room, trying to calm my growing anxieties. Perhaps she had just gone out for coffee. Or home to take Frederick to school. And then I saw it. An envelope with the hotel logo, addressed to me and lying on my nightstand.

I slowly picked it up, my heart pounding. My worst fear was that I would read a similar version of the letter she had given me last month, the one that she had written in Chicago when she had no intention of being around to see me read. I had no idea when she had written this, or when she had left. If it was a suicide note, chances were that I would be too late.

I must have sat there for over fifteen minutes, holding the envelope in my hands and trying to summon the courage to open it. At first, I just couldn't do it. I preferred the possibility that she was alive to the  
certainty that she wasn't. But as they say, there is nothing worse than not knowing, and after the graphic images my imagination was creating became too much, I turned the envelope over and ripped it open.

My eyes scanned the paper quickly, and when I had finished, I wanted to cry with relief. She had needed to collect her thoughts, and had gone home to take Frederick to school. But she was fine. Thank God.

There was a knock on my door, and I hastily pulled on a bathrobe and rushed to open it. I knew Lilith never would have left without saying goodbye properly.

"Frederick." My son stood in the hall, red-faced and out of breath. He was dressed in his school uniform, and had his bookbag with him, and I couldn't figure out why he wasn't in class. "What are you doing here?"

He pushed past me and strode into the room. "What's going on?" he demanded angrily.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused. "And how did you get here?"

"I took the subway," he answered quickly. "Dad, what's going on with you and Mom?"

"What do you mean?" I repeated, desperately stalling for time.

Frederick sighed. "Mom didn't come home until almost nine this morning. She was late taking me to school. She keeps sending me to stay with Joe because she has all these 'conferences' that she never tells me about until the last minute."

I sighed. "Sit down, Frederick. We should probably have a talk."

He chose a chair across the room and dropped his bookbag at his feet. "Why won't you guys tell me anything?" he demanded. "Don't I have a right to know if my parents are getting back together?"

"Frederick, things are very confused right now," I tried to explain. "We didn't want to disappoint you if things didn't work out."

"You should have told me," he insisted. "How do you think it feels to find out your parents are involved with each other again, and didn't even bother to tell you?"

"You're absolutely right," I agreed. "You deserved to know, and I'm sorry if this hurt you in any way."

"It did," he admitted, his hurt feelings written on his face. "It hurt a lot." He looked down, and scuffed the carpet with his toe. "So what's going to happen?"

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "We're getting a divorce. This afternoon, as a matter of fact."

"But why?" he asked, uncomprehending. "You still love her, don't you?"

I nodded. "That I do, Frederick."

"And she still loves you?"

I nodded again. That, I was sure of.

"Then why are you getting a divorce?" Such a simple question, and so difficult to answer.

"Frederick, some things just aren't meant to be," I tried to explain, as much to myself as to my son.

Fredrick stood up and snatched up his bookbag, staring at me furiously. "That's got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Dad!" he yelled. "You have a chance to be with Mom again, and see me all the time instead of two or three times a year, but you're going to run away again." He stormed over to the door and threw it open, before pivoting back and throwing a final warning in my direction. "If you hurt her again, I'll never forgive you."

He slammed the door behind him, and I buried my face in my hands. My God, what was I going to do?

I suddenly felt a pang of guilt shoot through me... certainly one of many in recent months. My own son made it sound like he cared more for his mother's welfare than I did. I refused to believe it. I loved her so much; the last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt her.

And yet, somehow, I was about to justify walking into a courtroom and breaking both our hearts. Forever. I knew that after this, we wouldn't have a third chance. Our first had been obliterated, our second was about to be... I knew we would never get another.

Reaching again for her letter, where I had left it on the dresser, I cradled the paper in my hands. It smelled of her perfume, and had a tear stain in the corner. 'Never forget how much I love you,' she'd written before her signature. I never could.

And I knew I would never be able to forget how much this was going to hurt her.

I arrived at the courthouse ten minutes late, with the immaturely subconscious reasoning that if we weren't there when they called for us, they'd move on to the next scheduled case. Oh, for God's sake, Frasier, this wasn't a dentist appointment.

Lilith was waiting for me, pacing the empty hallway. The moment our eyes met, she quickened her step and approached me. I forced myself to be prepared to push her away if she tried to hug me out of habit. But I never had to put it to use; she stopped two feet away, however abruptly... almost as if she had to remind herself as well. She was wearing one of her suits, and her hair was slightly pulled back from her face, which was nothing short of terror personified.

Her voice, however, was almost maddeningly cool. Perhaps it was just the calm before the storm and all that. "I need to talk to you," she whispered.

"Honey, I don't think-"

"Frasier, you can't call me that here," she interrupted.

My embarrassment must have been painfully obvious. "I don't think this is a good time to talk," I told her, trying to be as honest as I could while still taking into account that this may easily be the most difficult day of our lives, and there must have been a hundred different things each of us wanted to talk about.

Her voice was urgent, but collected. "It's important."

Suddenly the courtroom door opened, and we turned to face the person standing in the entrance. "They're ready for you," he informed us.

He remained in the doorway, watching us intently. I almost wished I could ask him to give us a moment alone, but how ridiculous would that look? Oh, please, I know we hate each other so much that we're destroying our marriage, but just let us share one last kiss.

We shared instead an expressionless glance, resisted the urge to take each other's hand, and marched into the courtroom.

As I followed her into the room, I was struck by a sense of deja vu. The dread, the apprehension, everything reminded me of our failed attempt to obtain an annulment back in California. I wished with all my heart that today would turn out the same way, with the judge refusing to end our marriage, but I knew better. Anyone could easily obtain a divorce, although I wondered how many couples still loved each other at all, let alone as much as Lilith and I did.

The judge was female this time, a woman in her late fifties or early sixties with a no-nonsense look about her. "We will now be hearing case number three twenty-seven, Dr. Frasier Crane vs. Dr. Lilith Sternin-Crane."

I winced. She made it sound like a boxing match, or a war. She had no idea how much this was hurting both of us.

"Would the plaintiff please hand the necessary documents to the bailiff?" the judge ordered.

I took out my briefcase and handed the bailiff everything I had arranged prior to my departure for Boston. My and Lilith's birth certificates, as well as a copy of Frederick's. Lists of our individual assets, although  
nothing was changing with those. This part would be neat and simple-we would each keep everything we had owned before our marriage. Our custody agreement of Frederick, which would also stay the same. And finally, our marriage certificate from July, issued by Los Angeles County, California.

The judge took the documents from the bailiff and began reading over them. I drummed my fingers on the table and looked over at Lilith, who was busy examining a water mark. We had chosen not to hire lawyers to represent us. The last thing I wanted was to pay some bloodsucking leech to explain to the court how miserable Lilith had made my life.

"Dr. Crane?" I looked up to see the judge staring at me. "As the plaintiff, what are your grounds for divorce?"

I knew what to say. I had been practicing it, if half-heartedly, for about a week now. We were inebriated at the time of the ceremony, and did not realize the consequences of our actions. Over at the next table, Lilith was still engrossed in that water mark.

"None, your honor." I wondered if I had really said that. Looking around the courtroom, at the stunned faces of the judge and the bailiff, and especially of Lilith confirmed that I had.

The judge cleared her throat. "Excuse me?"

"None," I repeated. "I don't want this divorce."

Lilith had looked up, and was now staring at me. "Frasier..." she whispered.

By now, the judge looked completely baffled. I almost felt sorry for her. "Dr. Crane, what is going on?"

"I changed my mind," I replied smoothly. "Surely such a thing has happened before?"

She stared at me blankly. "Yes, but usually it's a decision shared by both parties."

"It is."

That was Lilith.

I looked over at her. Even as she stood up, her gaze was fixed on me, and her face was lit up in a way I hadn't seen since I first met her in Chicago months before. She stood motionless in front of her seat, as if afraid that were she to be seated, she would miss my confirmation that I had actually said what she thought I'd said. That I finally recognized I cared more for her than any possible consequences that would result from this. That I knew that whatever they were, nothing could be worse than the consequences of us *not* being together.

As the other people in the courtroom exchanged whispers, staring at us both all the while, I rose from my own seat and stood motionless as she did.

"I don't care if I get hurt," I called across the room to her as her eyes filled with tears. "I'm willing to take that risk because you're worth it," I informed her, for what felt like the first time offering honesty without pain. "You're worth it to me," I repeated, choking up with tears and taking a step towards her.

In that moment, for the first time in our recent months together, I couldn't read her at all. Had she gone completely out of her mind and decided she didn't love me anymore? Or was this the scene she had dreamed about ever since our decision to divorce?

"The question is," I concluded softly, "am I worth it to you?"

I felt the eyes of everyone in the room on us both... but soon all I could feel were her lips, covering mine, as she leapt into my arms and wrapped herself around me, kissing me as though she'd missed me her entire life.

I held onto her so tightly, afraid she would slip away, or vanish into thin air, or that it would all be a dream... God knows I'd had enough dreams like this lately. But there it was, her silky hair between my fingers, her arms around my neck, and that captivating perfume. This was real.

She whispered something into my ear, and above the daze I was in, I hadn't heard a thing. "What?" I breathed, knowing my subconscious had somehow picked up her words, but they were too powerful for the rest of me to acknowledge.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered.

I stared at her, still unable to fully comprehend her words. "When did you find out?"

She smiled at me, her eyes shining with happiness. "This morning. I wasn't feeling well, so I went to my doctor for a check-up, and he told me."

I gently traced her face with my fingers, and kissed her again. "You've made me so happy," I told her softly.

"Ahem." The judge cleared her throat, and I realized that in fact, we weren't alone.

I smiled apologetically at her and put my arm around Lilith. "We're sorry to waste your time, your honor," I apologized. "If you'll excuse us, we have a lot to talk about."

She shuffled her papers in front of her. "Of course. I'm happy things worked out so well for the two of you."

Lilith smiled. "Thank you." She took my hand, and we walked out of the courthouse together.

* * *

I was so deliriously happy that I didn't remember much about our journey home. Home. I had to keep repeating it to myself. I was going home with my husband.

"I'm going to move back to Boston," Frasier told me, after we were lying in bed together. "I was thinking you and Frederick could come back to Seattle with me and help me make all the arrangements next month during Frederick's school holiday."

"Are you sure?" I asked quietly. "Frederick and I could always move to Seattle if you wanted to stay near your family."

Frasier looked thoughtful. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind?"

"We'd be a family," I answered softly. "That's all that matters."

He grinned at me. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Only about a hundred times in the last hour," I teased him.

"Well, let me make it a hundred and one," he replied, kissing me again.

I settled down beside him, curling up against his warm body, and thinking of nothing else but how incredible it was to know that I no longer had anything to dread. There would be no more sorrowful mornings, no more cautious nights of trying to resist the overpowering force that always drew us together. Now, there was only us... only this. We had to forget all past regrets, or we would miss out on the future.

My eyes filled up with tears, and Frasier lifted me up into his arms. "Angel, what's the matter?"

I swiped at the tears with the back of my hand. "I just keep thinking of what would have happened today, if you hadn't..."

Continuing was unnecessary; he knew exactly what I meant. What would have happened if he hadn't had the courage to stop what would have been the greatest mistake of our lives.

Gathering me into his embrace, he gently kissed the tip of my nose. "It's in the past now, my love."

"The minute you spoke up," I said softly, "everything I'd been afraid of disappeared. Everything about waiting for the right time, or worrying about what would happen if we made this kind of commitment... it just vanished, and I knew everything was finally right."

"I know," he whispered. "To think that's what we needed all along..."

My face unfolded into a smile. "We're going to have another child," I reflected as I rested my head on his shoulder, hardly even believing it myself.

He grinned, propped himself up on one elbow, and leaned over with me, playing with strands of my hair. "How are we going to tell Frederick?"

"Well," I thought, grabbing Frasier's wrist to glance at his watch, "I have to pick him up from school in about half an hour. And I should probably pick up something for dinner, or else we could all go out somewhere as a family, but maybe we should wait until we're all home before we tell him that particular detail, and..."

I stopped, finally realizing that he was staring at me so intently, one would think I was describing a vivid sex dream I'd just had about him, as opposed to talking about what I was going to do for dinner.

"What?" I asked him, bemused.

His smile was radiant. "I married the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Oh, you." I couldn't think of anything to say to that, so I kissed him instead.

Despite the many distractions, consisting of Frasier, Frasier, and Frasier yet again, I was on time to collect Frederick. I picked him up at our meeting place a few blocks from his school, since Frasier and I still weren't allowed to come anywhere near Marbury Academy.

My son silently got into the car, avoiding my gaze as he dropped his bookbag at his feet. "How was school?" I asked in a feeble attempt to start conversation.

Frederick shrugged. "I dunno. How was your divorce?"

"We're not getting one." It still sounded strange to me, after months of believing that a termination of Frasier's and my marriage was a foregone conclusion.

Frederick looked up. "You're not? But Dad said this morning..."

"Well, that was before," I explained. "Your father and I have done a lot of talking, and we want to make our second marriage work." Something still nagged at me, and I had to think a moment in order to identify it. "Frederick, when did you see your father this morning?"

My son dropped his gaze and began staring out the window. "Uh..."

"Never mind, it doesn't matter," I said carelessly. I was too happy to let anything bother me.

"So where's Dad now?" Frederick asked me. "What's going to happen?"

I turned onto my street. "He's waiting for us at home. We thought you might like to share your thoughts as well."

Frederick nodded and turned back to the window. "All right, Mom."

"How do you feel about this?" I asked quietly. "I know this must come as a bit of a shock to you."

My son turned back to me. "It is, but I'll get over it. It's a little weird right now, but I'm honestly glad we're going to be a family again. It's sure going to be different, though."

Oh, he had no idea.

I spent the remainder of the ride trying to predict his reaction when Frasier and I would tell him he was going to be a big brother. It was hard enough knowing how he felt about the fact that his parents were back together after nine years. How was he going to explain this to his friends? On that note, I couldn't help but smile. Poor Joe would be heartbroken.

As I parked the car, Frederick quickly opened his door and went inside.

I turned off the ignition and followed him through the door just as he was heading up the stairs. "Frederick, can we talk to you for a minute?" I asked.

"Sure," he answered, continuing up the stairs without a glance behind him. "Just let me get changed first."

Frasier appeared in the downstairs hallway a few feet away from me, and without hesitation I put my arms around his waist and rested my head against his shoulder, pleasantly surprised at how much I had missed him in only the few minutes I'd been gone.

He rubbed my back gently. "Did you tell him?"

"I told him we didn't get a divorce," I replied quietly. "I thought I'd wait on... the other thing... until we could tell him together..."

Frasier pulled back and looked at me with that enthralling smile of his. "What did he say?"

I sighed softly. "I don't know... I think he's a little confused right now."

"I know," he whispered, stroking my cheek. "I am too. I think we all are. But we're going to be a family again," he reminded me. "I think that's enough for now."

Despite all the confusion of the matter, of one thing I was certain: "I love you."

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine, which turned into another kiss... and another... each one growing progressively more involving than the last.

"You wanted to talk to me," Frederick reminded us, frozen on a step halfway down the staircase.

Frasier and I quickly broke away and shot each other a guilty glance, trying our best to keep a straight face. "Yes," I finally said. "Um..."

Thankfully, Frasier came to the rescue and took the initiative. "The living room?" he suggested.

I nodded and followed him to the couch, while Frederick chose an armchair opposite us, observing us intently. The three of us sat silently, Frasier and I glancing at each other, wondering where to start; and Frederick, looking from one of us to the other, and back again. At last, Frasier took my hand for comfort, and I squeezed it.

"Frederick..." he began.

"I know, Mom told me you're... back together," he responded quickly, attempting a small smile before dropping his head to stare at the carpet. "I think it's great," he added quietly.

Frasier found my other hand and held it as well. "That's not all, though."

I looked at him, and he nodded, encouraging me to give him the news myself. "Frederick..." I started, holding back my anxiety, "you're going to be a older brother."

Frederick's head snapped up as he stared at me, then Frasier, then me again. "You're having a baby?"

Frasier and I nodded together. "In the springtime," Frasier added.

Our son still hadn't said anything, or shown any sign of reactance. "Frederick, are you all right?" Frasier asked quietly.

"Dad, this is a lot to take in," Frederick answered. "I mean, in the last few days, I've found out my parents were married, then getting a divorce, now they're together again, and they're having a baby on top of everything. Don't blame me for being confused."

Frasier and I looked at each other guiltily. Our son was absolutely right. We had jumped into this without thinking beforehand about how it would affect us, or Frederick. And while everything had worked out for Frasier and me, we had yet to discover the effects of our actions on our son.

"But I always wanted a baby brother or sister," Frederick added. "I'll be fine. I just need some time to get used to this."

Frasier nodded. "Fair enough."

"Can I call my friends?" Frederick asked, standing up.

I nodded. "We'll call you when we're ready to leave for dinner."

"Thanks, Mom." My son kissed my cheek, and briefly hugged his father. "I love you guys."

Frederick disappeared up the stairs, and I collapsed against Frasier. "I'm so glad that's over with."

Frasier might have said something in reply, but I never found out, because I had fallen asleep.

* * *

We went to dinner at Melville's, after stopping by at Cheers to see some old friends. Sam and Rebecca congratulated us, Cliff spouted his familiar stream of useless trivia, and Carla made one of her sarcastic comments about hell having frozen over.

At dinner, strangely enough, Lilith and I were once again mistaken for a couple celebrating their anniversary. The mistake was quickly corrected, the happy couple congratulated by the entire staff, but this time, there was no gloominess or depression cast upon our evening. The entire affair seemed almost comical.

During dessert, Lilith leaned over and whispered in my ear "They were right, you know."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"At that restaurant in California. It was our anniversary. We just didn't know it yet."

I smiled and kissed her. "Right you are, my rose-bud."

"Aw, gee," Frederick complained, pretending to cover his eyes. Then he grinned at us, and for the first time, the three of us felt like a family again.

Two months later, Lilith and Frederick moved back to Seattle with me. And on May 22nd the following year, Sandra Camille Crane was born.

But that's a whole different story.


End file.
